EVENTS 


THE   PROPHECY  OF  OUR  NATIONAL  GREATNESS. 


"I  SCO 


is  established  rci^n;  cities  and  men, 
Numerous  as  sands  upon  the  oeeati  shore, 
And  empires  rising  \vherc  the  sun  descends! 
The  Ohio  soon  shall  e<1ide  byinany  a  town 
Of  Note!  and  where  the  Mississippi's  stream, 
Bv  forests  shaded,  new  runs  sweeping  on. 
Nations  shall  oYow.and  slates,  not  less  in  fame 
Than  Oeeee  and  Rome  of  old!  We,too,shall  boast 
Otir  Scipios,  Solons,  Cato.s, ..  sag^es,  chiefs, 
That  in  the  l.ipse  of  time  yet  dormant  lie, 
Waiting  the  joyous  hour  of  life  and  light." 

Philip  Treiieau,  the  American  Poet  in  I77i. 


ITS     FULFILMENT. 


n/u-  fu/rtimr  i'f-'ffH.nt<u/itnf  nt<talun'  in  it,)uvmttfi,ti'tn'ch  had/mar  than  doubled  evflty 
h'ti  iftttf\t,  but  in  //«•  iitrini.H  rf-'/t.)  fiiynil(itit>n,  n  ln'rh  /.»  rim  inni  /  tilntil>li  t/iiin  ffiMfiiH/.tilrrr 
/></.>  f+r/i  .n\  /mtfj  nurf  /thin  .Jmi/f-lfilrriii,  /line  /Hiir.irtH'ir  //*///,  -tii.*lrifi,rrn  tiiw.inH'n'/fnin 
finnifi',  f//H//'.>  ftrtfiiifrf  fi'ffH'i'usu  huiH/int/ni/lirii,)  <it  fhc  /W»"/>//r  <rnturif:  ft/if/,  f>ri/{>rt(/// 
wr/Hitifini.itr  f>c,tnit.>fH'n<fr,mittKfniiN/ct/r,/nifJ  trmftv-Hilrimi,iu  ifaii'.H'tirw'.),  i/tft.)  w/ifici 
fic.t  iMH/inif.t  tyi/ni1i/nitir.),irhfif  •')  (/ffrt'W'/f///rsH/i//f>/ir('f//r/." 

>w  frirtit  fr  ffri</euf,  frft/n  /tHxtntriifi  totiwuHtrwi,  /hwi.  Mtmtic  to  'fticijH  ;  Jrrin  /mit 
/  *  llfiiiif  fi'tfn'  '.ft'lfffii  fiff/r,  tticfitft/ir  {>fr/ii.)(ftr/ifnwitrif,  ifwi/ij  /niH/riirf,U'/,) 
r/rvnjHj/icr  tiwf  n'tf/it  (tw//nw<:  .i/itill  tfiiit/r  ft,  .)fMillltcfny(>/H( 
Ixi/tmlnnif  uwvls  Unit  niiihrtirf  mult/  ilrrijf.nrttnit  my  trmtfur 

\wrlw  twififfrf.  inniwjtiry  cf  the  I  lrr/f  milieu  ofjmfywttfafce  (itiJ/ffiifli/J,  fi.)finrii 
fi/r  rH/fH>/>,  twy/HSt'tif/  //if  r  fin  it  tnilh.t  cf  flint  iinnnnifil,  tlatjmi  f-'lifirta;  mjiytriff  nftinic  n  >it/r 


1'iitftitrjt  iilow.tttf'ttir  7b.)//  " 

f/rr  '/h'J/f  //'///  fr>//Sf  t 


OUE  FIRST  CENTURY: 

BEING  A 

POPULAR  DESCRIPTIVE  PORTRAITURE 


OF    THE 


OF    PERPETUAL    INTEREST 


IN  THE  HISTORY  OF  OUR  COUNTRY, 

Political,  Military,  Mechanical,  Social,  Scientific 

and  Commercial: 


EMBRACING    ALSO 


DELINEATIONS  OF  ALL  THE  GREAT  HISTORIC  CHARACTERS 

CELEBRATED  IN  THE  ANNALS  OF  THE 

REPUBLIC  ; 

Men  of  Heroism,  Statesmanship,  Genius,  Oratory,  Adven 
ture  and  Philanthropy. 


By    n.    M.    DE^EISTS, 

Member  of  the  Historical  Society  of  Pennsylvania,  Author  of  Appleton's  Commercial  and  Business  Cyclopedia, 
Lives  of  Washington,  Napoleon,  and  Wellington,  $~c.,  frc. 


Splendidly  Illustrated  with  Several  Hundred  Plates,  Portraits,  and  other  Embellishments, 


PUBLISHED  BY 

C.  A.  NICHOLS  &  CO.,  SPBINGFIELD  MASS. 

HUGH  HERON,  CHICAGO,  ILL. 

1879. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1876, by 

C.  A.  NICHOLS  &  Co. 
In  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


THE  CLARK  W.  BRYAH  COMPANY, 
ELKCTROTYPER,  PRINTERS  AXD  BINDERS, 

SPRIMOriKLD,  MASS. 


"179 


LA  I 


"Columbia,  great  Republic!  thou  art  blest, 
While  Empires  drop,  and  Monarchs  sink  to  rest.' 


GLORY  OF  THE  AMERICAN"  CENTURY. 


'BAND  and  impressive,  beyond  all  that  is  yet  written  in  the 
Volume  of  Human  History,  will  be  that  transcendent  Chapter, 
which  shall  unfold,  in  philosophic  narrative,  the  birth  and  onward 
march,  in  greatness  and  power,  of  the  Republic  of  the  United  States, — the  completion 
of  its  FIRST  CENTURY  of  mighty  national  development  in  Political  Liberty  and 
Free  Civilization,  and  the  momentous  relations  of  that  development  to  the  interest, 
progress,  and  destiny  of  mankind. 

A  task  so  stately  and  magnificent  might  fitly  engage  the  pen  of  a  Bancroft,  a  Motley, 
or  other  historiographer  of  kindred  fame ;  for,  surely,  no  power  of  mental  grasp  or 
of  historic  portrayal  inferior  to  theirs,  could  adequately  set  forth  the  resplendent 
advances  and  triumphs  of  HUMAN  ILLUMINATION  —  wide  streaming,  wondrous, 
beneficent,  energizing, —  on  this  western  continent,  and  under  the  inspiration  of 


8 


DEDICATION. 


liberal  institutions,  during  the  Century  of 
the  American  Republic ;  a  country  which, 
when  it  first  clothed  itself  with  the  pre 
rogatives  of  sovereignty,  numbered  but 
thirteen  feeble  States,  with  three  million 
inhabitants,  occupying  the  small  familiar 
strip  of  territory  lined  on  one  side  by 
the  Atlantic  ocean,  and  on  the  other  by 
the  Alleghany  ridge,  but  whose  vast  out 
lying  boundaries  are  now  watered  also  by 
the  great  Pacific,  the  gulf  of  California, 
and  the  Arctic  ocean, — comprising,  in  fact, 
a  continental  chain  of  zones,  sweeping,  in 
hemispheric  magnitude,  from  the  moun 
tain  crests  of  eternal  snows  to  the  region 
of  perpetual  flowers ; — its  census  of  popu 
lation,  too,  with  similar  strides  of  amazing 
augmentation,  rolling  up  a  free,  intelli 
gent,  and  powerful  citizenship  of  forty 
round  millions ! 

Never  before  has  the  world  witnessed 
so  superlative  an  illustration  of  the  capac 
ity  of  man  for  self  government ;  never 
before  has  the  Glory  of  Man,  in  his  unre- 
pressed  enthusiasm  and  unfettered  activi 
ties,  been  confirmed  by  achievements  so 
splendid  and  enduring. 

Sharing,  in  full  measure,  the  patriotic 
pride  of  a  birthright  and  nationality  so 
exalted,  and  of  associations  so  illustrious, — 
the  conscious  sentiment  of  every  American 
bosom, — 

I  DEDICATE  THIS  WORK  TO  MY  ENLIGHT 
ENED  FELLOW  COUNTRYMEN  IK  THE 
NEARLY  TWO-SCORE  FRATERNAL  COM 
MONWEALTHS  OF  OUR  GLORIOUS  UNION, 
— E  Pluribus  Unum  I  "ALL  FOR  EACH, 

AND    EACH     FOR    ALL." 


Our  common  interest  in  these  marvel 
ous  recitals  of  the  nation's  Wonderfully 
varied  Life  during  the  Centennial  Era, 
now  just  completed,  is  without  distinction 
of  party,  section,  or  calling;  and  our  con 


gratulatory  lot  it  is,  under  the  gracious 
blessing  of  Heaven,  to  boast  of  a  career 
more  renowned,  diversified  in  character, 
and  more  boundless  in  its  results  to  the 
human  race,  than  that  of  the  most  com 
manding  Empires  of  the  Past,  of  what 
ever  name  or  period. 

These  memorials  of  that  unparalleled 
and  majestic  drama  possess,  too, — many 
of  them, — an  historical  significance  which 
is  not  limited  to  the  past,  nor  to  the  gener 
ation  whose  fortune  it  is  to  rehearse  them 
at  this  dividing  threshold,  between  their 
occurrence  and  their  commemoration  ; — 
their  influence  will  reach  forward  to  the 
setting  of  the  sun  of  time! 

VAIN  PREDICTIONS  OF  THE  ENEMIES  OF 
FREE  GOVERNMENT. 

Contemplating,  with  but  the  briefest 
survey,  the  data  exhibiting  our  prodigious 
national  growth,  scarcely  can  it  be  realized, 
at  the  present  day,  that,  even  after  the 
lapse  of  successive  decades  from  the  na 
tion's  birth,  there  were  prophets  of  evil 
omen  across  the  water,  the  devotees  of 
monarchical  rule  and  the  enemies  of  free  in 
stitutions,  who  oracularly  predicted  that 
the  American  Republic  was  but  a  tran 
sient  experiment — a  mere  political  will-o'- 
the-wisp — an  aerial  edifice,  which  a  few 
rough  storms  would  shatter  and  dissipate; 
that  it  would,  indeed,  prove  like  Jonah's 
gourd,  which  grew  up  in  a  night,  and  per 
ished  in  a  day ! 

Statesmen  of  no  less  sagacity  than  Rus 
sell,  Macaulay,  Brougham,  and,  still  later, 
even  that  astute  philosopher,  Mr.  Carlyle, 
heralded  with  blind  and  self -conceited  as 
sumption,  the  downfall  of  our  nation, — the 
same  nation,  of  whose  geographical  mag 
nitude  already  attained  during  its  tenth 
decade,  one  of  the  most  prominent  of 
American  Statesmen  could  declare,  that, 
were  all  the  countries  conquered  by  Roman 


DEDICATION. 


arms,  or  reduced  to  subjection  by  Roman 
power,  arrayed  contiguously,  in  compact 
form,  and  placed  in  the  center  of  the 
United  States,  one  of  our  swift  railroad 
trains,  with  its  palace  cars,  containing 
more  of  elegance  and  luxury  of  travel  than 
the  most  sybaritic  of  the  Roman  emper 
ors  ever  dreamed  of,  must  run  at  the  rate 
of  twenty-five  miles  the  hour,  continu 
ously,  for  more  than  two  days,  from  either 
exterior  boundary  of  our  jurisdiction,  to 
reach  the  outward  limits  of  the  Roman 
empire,  when  thus  placed,  even  when  she 
claimed  to  be  mistress  of  the  world. 

But,  though  the  vauntings  of  evil  proph 
ecy,  the  assaults  of  envy  and  ridicule,  the 
tirades  of  a  hostile  press,  and  the  machina 
tions  of  kings  and  cabinets,  have  ever  and 
anon  swept  across  the  Atlantic,  and  sought 
to  weaken  the  stability  and  humiliate  the 
name  of  our  glorious  Republic,  it  still 
stands,  confronting  and  challenging  the 
tribunal  of  the  world,  in  the  majesty  of 
those  eternal  principles  embodied  in  its 
Declaration  of  Independence,  —  in  the 
strength  of  its  dignity  as  the  commanding 
arbiter  of  its  own  affairs,  and  of  the  des 
tiny  of  the  Western  hemisphere  as  well, — 
in  the  prowess  of  its  fleets  and  armies, — 
in  the  incalculable  wealth  of  its  natural 
resources, — in  the  splendor  of  its  world 
wide  commerce,  its  gigantic  material  en 
terprises,  its  vast  industries,  its  affluence 
in  the  whole  range  of  art,  science,  and  lit 
erature, — and  in  the  still  growing  ascend 
ancy  of  all  those  moral,  social,  educa 
tional,  and  political  forces,  which  shall 
carry  it  onward  and  dominant,  with  ever- 
increasing  power,  "  while  Empires  drop 
and  Monarchs  sink  to  rest." 

Well,  then,  may  every  true  American, 
standing  on  this  Centennial  outpost,  and 
seeing  the  gorgeous  ensigns  of  the  repub 
lic  studded  with  naught  but  stars  of  ever- 


brightening  light  and  luster,  proudly  ex 
claim,  "There  stands  the  Past — All  hail 
the  Hereafter !  Ring  out  the  Old — Ring 
in  the  New  !  " 

SCOPE  OF  THIS  VOLUME:  WONDERS  AND 
PRODIGIES,  MEN  AND  EVENTS. 

Leaving  to  the  task  of  the  general  his 
torian,  the  discussion  of  those  grave  themes 
of  constitutional  and  legislative  polity,  the 
triumphs  and  failures  of  diplomacy,  and 
the  complex  details  of  civic  and  military 
administration,  which  make  up  the  politi 
cal  life  of  a  State  and  give  to  a  government 
its  distinguishing  consideration  and  status 
in  the  family  of  nations,  it  is  proposed 
in  this  volume, — as  meeting  what  is  be 
lieved  will  be  the  almost  universal  prefer 
ence  of  the  PEOPLE, — to  present,  rather,  a 
panoramic  view  of  those  wonders  and  prod 
igies,  both  of  men  and  events,  which  pe 
culiarly  reflect  the  patriotism,  taste  and 
genius,  the  exploits,  tragedies  and  achieve 
ments,  of  the  Century,  in  their  most  promi 
nent  and  emphasized  examples;  —  those 
red-letter  days,  scenes  and  sensations, 
which  exhibit,  in  distinctive  portraiture, 
the  glory  of  our  arms,  the  triumphs  of  in 
vention,  the  marvelous  phenomena  of  the 
heavens  above  and  the  earth  beneath,  the 
enthusiasm  of  reform,  the  valorous  adven 
tures  of  voyage  and  travel,  the  contests  of 
the  forum,  the  horrors  of  calamity  and 
crime,  the  startling  play  of  the  human  will 
and  passions,  the  gala  days  of  national  re 
joicing,  etc.,  etc.,  in  all  the  rich  and  ex 
citing  phases  of  one  hundred  changeful 
years. 

An  eminent  writer,  in  one  of  the  most 
influential  of  the  foreign  Reviews,  re 
marks  : 

"If  the  sense  of  wonder  in  civilized 
man  has  not  been  wholly  destroyed,  we 
can  not  doubt  that  this  age  in  which  we 


10 


DEDICATION. 


live  will  be  looked  back  upon  by  our  chil 
dren's  children  as  more  replete  with  won 
ders  than  any  which  the  world's  history 
has  hitherto  recorded." 

How  forcible  the  truth  of  this  observa 
tion  is,  in  respect  to  the  one  hundred  years 
of  our  own  history,  the  characterizations 
spread  out  in  the  following  pages  will  at 
test.  The  calendar  of  that  century  has 
been  multitudinous  with  wonders — social, 
moral,  political,  physical,  scientific,  —  so 
vast,  so  dazzling,  as  to  render  familiar  to 
us,  as  matters  of  common  interest  and 
daily  thought,  results  and  facts,  greater 
and  intrinsically  more  strange,  than  any 
that  past  ages  afford,  and  eclipsing  any 
that  pertain  to  distant  countries. 

The  superior  value,  therefore,  of  this 
volume,  for  the  great  mass  of  readers,  as 
compared  with  works  of  simple  chronologi 
cal  summary  with  the  usual  comments  and 
discussions,  is  seen  in  the  more  diverse 
range — the  wider  scope — of  attractive  sub 
jects  here  collected,  and  which  are  adapted 
to  meet  so  fully  the  average  taste  and 
need.  Thus,  the  pages  of  no  history,  cast 
in  the  customary  mould  of  that  order  of 
literature,  could  be  expected  to  contain 
more  than  a  passing  allusion,  if  so  much, 
to  the  peculiarly  readable  matter  which  com 
prises  one-third,  at  least,  of  the  topics  here 
treated,  and,  without  which,  the  work 
would  fail  in  its  most  piquant  element. 
HISTORY  ILLUSTRATING  ITSELF  BY  EX 
AMPLE. 

Adopting  the  words  "  great "  and  "  mem 
orable,"  according  to  the  liberal  definition 
of  lexicologists,  and  guided  by  the  familiar 
injunction  of  Cicero,  "Choose  with  dis 
cretion  out  of  the  plenty  before  you,"  the 
plan  of  this  work  is,  in  a  special  and  per 
spicuous  sense,  that  of  history  illustrating 
itself  by  example.  It  says  to  all,  Look 
on  this  picture — and  on  this. 


Suffice  it  to  say,  on  this  point,  that 
every  event  chosen  for  these  pages  is,  in 
addition  to  its  own  intrinsic  interest,  such 
as  illustrates  and  brings  into  striking  relief 
the  prevailing  sjiirit  or  excitement  of  the 
period  marked  by  its  occurrence, — photo 
graphs  of  each  recurring  marvel,  as  the 
canvas  of  national  life  was  unrolled, — be 
ginning  with  the  world-renowned  transac 
tion  in  the  Hall  of  Independence,  July  4, 
1776,  and  ending  with  the  Centennial  com 
memoration,  July  4,  1876,  of  that  august 
scene,  under  circumstances  the  most  grand 
and  imposing  that  ever  related  to  any  peo 
ple  under  the  sun. 

POPULAR   INTEREST    OF   THE    SUBJECTS 
HERE  TREATED. 

The  popular  and  permanent  fame  of 
these  celebrated  events,  which  thus  distin 
guish  a  century  confessedly  the  most  won 
derful  of  any  in  the  ages  of  the  world,  and 
pertaining  to  a  country  whose  career  has 
been  unequaled  by  that  of  any  of  the  na 
tions  of  Christendom,  may  well  be  said  to 
constitute  a  quality  in  this  volume,  com 
pared  with  which  the  ordinary  terms  ap 
plicable  to  books  designed  for  wide-spread 
circulation  would  be  but  tame.  The  char 
acter  of  this  work  is,  rather,  in  the  fullest 
sense,  romantic,  stimulating,  instructive, — 
adapted,  in  the  highest  degree,  to  enlist 
the  rapt  emotions  and  curiosity  of  every 
American  reader,  so  long  as  the  republic 
shall  endure.  Here,  also,  are  presented  to 
view,  in  addition  to  the  long  and  thrilling 
role  of  subsequent  events,  those  grand 
Time-marks  in  our  earlier  history,  to 
which  the  out-stretched  forefinger  of  a 
century  points,  as  most  memorable  and 
engrossing.  They  were  rehearsed  by  the 
fathers  to  the  children ;  and  the  children 
of  the  present,  and  those  of  future  genera 
tions,  will  peruse  the  varied  story  with 
eager  and  absorbing  attention. 


DEDICATION. 


11 


For  that  large  number,  too,  who  though 
now  in  advancing  years  are  familiar  with 
many  of  these  events  only  through  verbal 
repetition,  or  from  scanty  and  fragmentary 
sources,  this  ample  detail,  through  the 
printed  page,  of  whatever  is  most  famous 
in  the  past  of  their  native  land,  will  surely 
be  invaluable. 

EXCLUSION   OF   ALL   DRY   TOPICS   AND 
DETAILS. 

As  already  remarked,  incidentally,  the 
treatment  of  those  topics  which  involve 
tedious  documentary  array,  those,  too, 
which  are  more  properly  within  the  scope 
of  scientific  speculation,  or  political  theo 
rizing,  or  legal  disquisition, — such,  for  in 
stance,  as  the  shifting  conflicts  of  party, 
our  international  complications,  and  those 
profound  problems  of  public  policy  which 
have  agitated  the  country  since  its  very 
foundation, — has  not  been  attempted  here, 
excepting  in  those  special  features  which 
admit  of  attractive  narrative  and  the  em 
bodying  of  genial  anecdote  and  pleasing 
memorabilia.  A  host  of  ready  pens  will 
not  be  wanting,  to  elaborate,  in  well-woven 
thread  of  continuity,  the  copious  facts  and 
proceedings  relating,  respectively,  to  the 
political,  military,  religious,  benevolent, 
commercial  and  industrial  growth  of  the 
republic,  during  the  wondrous  cycle  just 
completed ;  and  it  is  safe  to  assume,  there 
fore,  in  this  regard,  that  the  interests  of 
no  class  or  profession  will  suffer  from  the 
lack  of  a  competent  representative  in  the 
circle  of  authorship. 

THE   UNIVERSAL    HEART   TOUCHED    BY 
THESE  SCENES  AND  EVENTS. 

It  will  readily  be  conjectured  that,  to 
"  choose  with  discretion  "  from  the  multi 
farious  materials  which  the  preparation  of 
such  a  work  involved,  —  discriminating 


aptly  among  their  number  and  variety, — 
was  no  indifferent  task. 

The  utmost  pains-taking  has  been  put 
forth  by  the  editor,  to  perform  this  duty  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  omit  nothing,  the 
absence  of  which  would  impair  the  com 
pleteness  of  the  work,  by  making  it  in  any 
measure  less  than  it  should  be — a  mirror 
reflecting  the  great  and  striking  occur 
rences  of  an  Era  to  which  has  been  di 
rected,  from  first  to  last,  the  wondering 
gaze  of  people  of  every  clime.  Especially 
may  they  be  described  as  those  at  which 
the  American  citizen,  taking  a  retrospect 
of  the  annals  that  flow  through  the  period 
thus  marked,  involuntarily  finds  himself 
filled,  alternately,  with  astonishment  — 
pride — horror — delight. 

In  a  word,  the  contents  of  these  pages, 
as  will  be  seen  by  a  glance  at  the  TOPI 
CAL  OR  CLASSIFIED  LIST,  comprise  those 
events  which  called  forth  the  greatest  in 
terest,  curiosity,  admiration,  or  terror,  on 
the  part  of  the  public; — those  black  and 
white  keys,  whose  changeful  notes,  oft- 
times  of  weal,ofttimes  of  woe,  touched,  as 
did  no  others,  the  universal  heart ! 

DIFFERENT  TASTES    AND   PREFERENCES 

CONSULTED. 

That  the  number  of  subjects  pertinent 
for  such  a  work  might  be  somewhat  ex 
tended,  soon  became  apparent.  Thus,  of 
the  many  battles  in  the  five  great  wars, — 
the  revolutionary  struggle,  the  war  of 
1812,  the  Mexican  campaign,  the  conflict 
for  the  Union,  and  the  wars  with  the  In 
dian^ — a  description  will  be  found  of  the 
fifteen  most  decisive,  together  with  ac 
counts  of  some  others  of  controlling  im 
portance ;  to  portray  all,  however,  of  ac 
knowledged  moment,  would  have  been  to 
devote  a  whole  volume,  at  least,  to  that 
specialty  alone.  Particularly  does  this 


12 


DEDICATION. 


remark  apply  to  that  vast  and  prolonged 
drama  of  the  war  for  the  Union ; — it  was 
absolutely  impossible,  and  it  would  also 
have  been  equally  unprofitable,  to  present 
more  than  a  few  of  those  teeming  events, 
such,  for  instance,  as  marked  its  inaugura 
tion,  and  those  which,  during  its  progress, 
distinctly  foreshadowed  or  were  immedi 
ately  identified  with  the  final  result. 

The  same  statement  holds  true,  rela 
tively,  with  reference  to  great  political 
measures,  crimes,  disasters,  reforms,  and 
the  wide  field  of  discoveries  and  inven 
tions.  Of  these  latter,  numbering  in  the 
Patent  Office  at  Washington  scores  of 
thousands,  the  "  New  American  Cyclopae 
dia"  gives  place,  in  its  masterly  table  of 
Chronology,  to  barely  half  a  dozen  exam 
ples  ;  more  than  this  number,  however,  are 
here  described,  linked  with  the  fascinating 
story  of  their  extraordinary  origin  and  in 
troduction,  and  their  amazing  revolution 
ary  influence. 

Without  pursuing  this  train  of  explana 
tion  farther,  it  may  be  observed  that,  in 
prosecuting  the  contemplated  plan  of  this 
volume,  it  was  found  that,  though  the 
grand  object  in  view  would  be  amply  and 
satisfactorily  attained  by  restricting  the 
topical  contents  to  the  original  one  hun 
dred,  there  were  yet  certain  notable  occur 
rences  which,  though  by  no  means  "  great," 
in  the  pre-eminent  meaning  of  that  word, 
possessed,  nevertheless,  so  largely  the  char 
acter  of  being  novel  and  exhilarating,  and 
partook  so  peculiarly  of  the  "  bloom,  effer 
vescence,  and  gush"  of  the  times,  that 
their  presentation  would  add  most  agree 
ably  to  the  variety,  readableness,  and  eclat 
of  the  text. 

It  was  finally  determined,  therefore, 
that  a  limited  number  of  this  collateral  or 
secondary  class  should  be  included, — pop 
ular  side-light  scenes,  or  episodes,  in  the 


varying  tableaux, — such  as  the  account  of 
the  sea  serpent,  the  musical  tour  of  Jenny 
Lind,  the  chess  triumphs  of  Morphy, 
Rarey's  feats  of  horse-taming,  etc.,  etc., — 
but  not  by  subtracting  from  the  full  roll 
of  the  One  Hundred  events  which  were 
selected,  from  the  first,  as  legitimately 
illustrating  the  broad  National  Epoch,  and 
which  so  distinctly  fulfill  the  name  and 
design  of  this  work. 

GREAT   HISTORIC   ACTORS  AS   WELL  AS 
DEEDS  DESCRIBED. 

It  will  hardly  be  necessary  to  remark  at 
much  length  upon  what,  in  the  nature  of 
the  case,  is  so  obvious,  namely,  that  not 
alone  the  great  Events  distinguishing  the 
past,  but  also  the  Actors,  with  whose  lives 
those  events  are  so  intimately  identified, 
are  here  delineated  in  the  most  striking 
crises  of  their  career ;  so  that  no  sphere  or 
phase  of  public  concern,  however  diverse, 
which  aroused  world-wide  attention,  is 
without  its  personal  portraitures  in  these 
pages.  Washington,  and  his  immortal 
compatriots  of  "  the  times  that  tried  men's 
souls,"  and,  following  them,  all  the  chief 
historic  characters  whose  deeds  loom  up  so 
conspicuously,  and  whose  fame  for  good  or 
ill,  success  or  disaster,  is  national, — men 
of  heroism,  statesmanship,  oratory,  genius, 
adventure,  philanthropy,  crime,  —  have 
here  their  appropriate  place. 

CHARACTER  AND  EXTENT  OF  LABOR  IN 
VOLVED. 

The  matter  of  these  volumes  is  of  such 
a  nature  as  necessarily  to  render  mere 
rhetorical  platitudes  quite  out  of  place; 
and  the  too  common  plan  of  presenting 
rivulets  of  fact  in  meadows  of  verbiage, 
would  be  at  utter  variance  with  the  object 
and  value  of  our  prescribed  space.  Res, 
non  verba !  It  has  consequently  been  a 


DEDICATION. 


13 


paramount  aim  with  the  editor,  while 
strictly  avoiding  that  degree  of  condensa 
tion  which  would  result  in  arid  outlines, 
or  bare  skeletons,  to  —  first,  avoid  micro 
scopic  details,  and,  second,  to  fuse  the  vital 
facts  and  racy  incidents  of  each  subject  in 
such  a  manner  as  would  body  it  forth  to 
the  reader  in  judicious  fullness  and  com 
plete  unity.  That  no  reasonable  desire  in 
this  respect  has  been  left  unsatisfied,  it  is 
sufficient  to  say,  that,  to  each  great  event 
is  devoted  a  number  of  pages  equal  to  that 
usually  given  to  articles,  descriptive  or 
narrative,  in  the  various  first-class  maga 
zines  of  widest  circulation. 

Manifestly,  too,  it  could  form  no  part  of 
such  a  work  as  this  to  create,  or  to  adorn 
by  the  mere  artifice  of  words,  but  rather, 
with  simple  fidelity,  to  rehearse  and  per 
petuate.  Sources  of  information,  wher 
ever  available,  embracing  the  well  nigh 
endless  files  of  American  newspapers,  and 
in  particular  the  issues  of  the  metropoli 
tan  press ;  the  immense  range  of  periodi 
cal  literature  traversing  the  whole  period 
of  one  hundred  years  ;  voluminous  masses 
of  judicial  and  legislative  documents ;  the 
personal  narratives  of  those  who  were 
foremost  participants  in  the  scenes  de 
picted  ;  innumerable  incidents  and  data 
communicated  by  eye-witnesses ;  the  teem 
ing  libraries,  public  and  private,  of  our 
principal  cities  ; — the  whole  store-house, 
in  fact,  of  history  in  every  department, 
has  been  industriously  explored,  and  its 
contents,  diligently  examined  and  sum 
marized,  made  tributary  to  the  interest  of 
these  pages. 

No  event  or  transaction  has  in  any  case 
been  selected,  or  excluded,  because  of  any 
bias,  political  or  religious,  on  the  part  of 
the  editor ;  but,  alike  in  respect  to  the 
events  themselves  and  their  dramatis  per- 
sonce,  the  variety  here  presented,  as  well 


as  the  authorities  and  sources  of  informa 
tion  cited,  will  abundantly  evince  the  en 
tire  impartiality  practiced.  Nor  was  it 
deemed  desirable  to  augment  the  bulk  of 
the  work  by  indulging  in  diffuse  com 
ments,  or  philosophical  reflections,  on  the 
events  set  forth,  however  fruitful  and 
tempting  the  opportunity.  The  "plain 
unvarnished  tale "  is  allowed  to  stand  by 
itself,  teaching  its  own  lesson,  and  sug 
gesting  its  own  commentary. 

The  difficulty  of  attaining  unchallenged 
accuracy  in  all  the  minutiae  of  each  event 
— as,  for  example,  the  diverse  combina 
tions  and  maneuvers  incident  to  pro 
longed  battles, — as  well  as  other  transac* 
tions  involving  great  and  many-sided 
detail,  need  but  to  be  mentioned  in  order 
to  be  appreciated.  The  various  and  pro 
tracted  controversies  growing  out  of  the 
statements  contained  in  the  volumes  of 
our  foremost  national  historian,  Mr.  Ban 
croft,  are  fresh  in  the  minds  of  all  who  are 
familiar  with  current  literature  and  affairs, 
and  furnish  a  case  in  point ;  and  if  any  ad 
ditional  evidence  were  requisite  to  show 
the  difficulties  of  even  the  most  conscien 
tious  narrator,  the  experience  of  Sir  Wal 
ter  Raleigh  will  at  least  be  taken  as  suf 
ficiently  suggestive.  It  is  well  known 
that  his  "History  of  the  World"  was 
composed  while  he  was  a  political  prisoner 
in  the  Tower  of  London.  Only  a  portion 
of  the  work,  however,  was  published, 
owing  to  the  following  circumstance : — 
One  afternoon,  looking  through  his  win 
dow  into  one  of  the  courts  of  the  Tower, 
Sir  Walter  saw  two  men  quarrel,  when  the 
one  actually  murdered  the  other.  Shortly 
after  this  occurred,  two  gentlemen,  friends 
of  Sir  Walter,  came  into  his  room,  and, 
remarking  upon  the  tragedy,  disagreed 
materially  in  their  statements.  Sir  Wal 
ter,  who,  like  them,  had  witnessed  the 


14 


DEDICATION. 


whole  affair,  declared  that  neither  was  ac 
curate,  and  gave  his  own  version  of  the 
matter.  Thus,  three  eye-witnesses  disa 
greeing  about  an  act  so  recently  com 
mitted.  Raleigh,  in  a  rage,  took  up  the 
volumes  of  manuscript  which  lay  near, 
and  belonging  to  his  "History  of  the 
World,"  and  threw  them  on  a  large  fire 
that  was  in  the  room,  exclaiming,  that  "  it 
was  not  for  him  to  write  the  history  of  the 
world,  if  he  could  not  verify  or  relate 
what  he  saw  a  quarter  of  an  hour  be 
fore." 

It  remains  to  be  added  here,  in  terms  of 
warm  and  grateful  appreciation,  that  much 
of  the  irksomeness  inseparable  from  labor 
of  this  character,  has  been  relieved  by  the 
aid  afforded  us,  so  cheerfully,  by  corre 
spondents  in  different  parts  of  the  coun 
try, —  authors,  statesmen,  military  and 
other  officials, — and  without  whose  friend 
ly  co-operation,  insuperable  difficulty  would 
have  been  experienced  by  the  editor,  at 
more  than  one  stage  in  the  progress  of  his 
task. 

The  valuable  assistance  thus  rendered  is 
hereby  gratefully  acknowledged,  with  a 
deep  sense  of  personal  obligation. 

SUPERB  ATTRACTIVENESS  OF  THE  ILLUS 
TRATIONS. 

Of  the  numerous  and  elegant  pictorial 
adornments  of  these  pages,  much  might 
be  said.  This  attractive  as  well  as  essen 
tial  feature,  namely,  the  full  and  graphic 
illustration,  by  views  and  portraits,  of 
each  event  and  its  chief  actors,  together 
with  the  signatures  of  the  latter,  was  de 
termined  on  simultaneously  with  the  first 
conception  of  the  book  itself;  and  the  re 
sult — a  complete  Picture  Gallery  of  the 
National  Century, — will  be  found  in  keen 
ing  with  the  selectest  attainments  of  taste 
and  genius  in  this  direction,  and  worthy 


of  the  vivid  transactions  thus  delineated. 
They  have  been  furnished  by  the  most 
eminent  artists,  and  at  a  lavish  cost, — the 
number,  variety,  and  beauty  of  the  plates 
being  far  in  advance  of  those  of  any  other 
work  of  the  same  compass  ever  before  pub 
lished  in  America,  and  equaled  by  few  or 
none  issued  abroad. 

That  nothing  should  be  deficient  in  this 
feature,  the  plan  pursued  was,  to  obtain,  if 
possible,  accurate  representations  of  every 
scene  to  be  described,  fresh  and  contem 
porary  with  its  occurrence,  and,  where  no 
facility  was  afforded  for  this,  to  resort  to 
the  best  skill  capable  of  realizing  the  end 
desired.  They  comprise  copies  of  some 
of  the  masterpieces  of  Trumbull,  Copley, 
Healy,  .and  others  of  that  renowned  school, 
and  portraits,  sketches,  designs,  vignettes, 
etc.,  by  the  most  gifted  leaders  of  art  in 
America. 

It  is  but  simple  justice,  also,  to  remark 
here,  that  for  the  completeness  character 
izing  this  wide  field  of  embellishment,  our 
warmest  thanks  are  due,  in  repeated  in 
stances,  to  the  generosity  of  courteous 
correspondents, — authors,  artists,  publish 
ers  and  others,  —  for  portraits  and  auto 
graphs  so  rare  that,  but  for  the  kind  favor 
thus  extended,  access  to  some  of  the  most 
valued  engravings  here  given  would  have 
been  well  nigh  impracticable.  Nor  would 
it  be  possible,  in  this  connection,  to  over 
state  the  credit  belonging  to  the  unrivaled 
illustrated  journals  of  our  great  cities, 
whose  prompt  and  profuse  photographs  of 
current  events  and  memorable  objects  and 
personages,  in  all  parts  of  the  world,  dur 
ing  the  last  quarter  of  a  century,  leave 
nothing  unprovided  in  that  line  for  the 
future  historian.  In  a  vast  majority  of 
instances,  indeed,  those  journals  are  the 
only  sources  from  which  life-like  picto 
rial  descriptions  of  American  history,  and 


DEDICATION. 


16 


that   of    other   nations    as   well,   can    be 
drawn. 

TIMELY  APPEARANCE  OF  THE  WORK. 

Without  egotism  or  boastfulness,  it  may 
be  claimed  for  this  work,  in  conclusion, 
that,  original  and  unique  in  plan,  rich  in 
its  varied  and  ample  contents,  and  unsur 
passed  in  abundant  ornamentation,  its  ap 
pearance  at  the  close  of  the  Grand  Na 
tional  Era  was  peculiarly  called  for;  —  it 
being  confidently  believed  that,  under  the 


stimulus  of  the  universal  celebration  of 
the  Great  Commemorative  Anniversary, 
throughout  all  the  borders  of  the  land, 
and  on  a  scale  of  magnificence  becoming 
the  most  powerful,  happy,  and  prosperous 
nation  on  the  face  of  the  globe,  public  at 
tention  would  naturally  be  directed  to  the 
desirableness  of  just  such  a  Memorial  of 
that  eventful  centenary  period  which  the 
Day  of  Jubilee  —  July  Fourth,  1876, — 
rounds  out  to  full-orbed  completeness. 
R.  M.  DEVENS. 


I. 


BIRTH  OF  THE  NEW  REPUBLIC. — 1776. 


Declaration  of  American  Independence  and  National  Sovereignty,  July  Fourth,  1776. — The 
Gauntlet  of  Defiance  thrown  at  the  Feet  of  the  British  Empire  by  Her  Youngest  Colonies. 
— Vast  Disparity,  in  Power  and  Resources,  between  the  Contestants. — The  whole  World 
Looks  on  Astonished. — Seven  Years'  Bloody  and  Desolating  War. — The  American  Cause  Tri 
umphant. — Grandest  Modern  Event. — America  Resists  Unjust  Taxation. — Haughty  Obsti 
nacy  of  King  George. — Burning  Eloquence  of  Patrick  Henry. — His  Summons,  "We  Must 
Fight." — Washington  Endorses  this  Sentiment. — Determination  of  the  People. — War  Prefer 
red  to  Submission. — Momentous  Action  by  Congress. — Separation  from  England  Decreed. — 
Effect  of  the  Act  in  America. — Its  Reception  in  England. — Excitement  of  the  King  and  Court. 
— Lord  Chatham,  America's  Advocate. — His  Passionate  Change  of  Views. — Scorching  Speech 
against  the  Colonies  — He  is  Struck  Dead  while  Speaking. — Magnanimity  of  Burke  and 
Fox. — Recognition  from  France  Secured. — Her  Timely  Aid  in  the  Struggle. — Victories  over 
the  British  Armies. — England  Gives  Up  the  Contest. — World-wide  Welcome  to  the  New 

Nation 65 

2 


18  CONTENTS. 

II. 

CAPITULATION  OF  GENERAL  BURGOYNE. — 1777. 

First  Royal  Army  Ever  Surrendered  to  Americans. — Utter  Failure  of  England's  Grand  Scheme 
to  "  Subdue  the  Rebellious  Colonies." — European  Sympathy  for  the  Struggling  Infant  Na 
tion. — Alliance  between  France  and  the  United  States. — Brilliant  and  Effective  Combination 
of  French  and  American  Forces. — Gloomy  Prospect  for  America  in  1777. — Britain's  Honor 
Intrusted  to  Burgoyue. — His  Magnificent  Army. — Rebels  to  be  Sternly  Dealt  With. — San 
guine  Expectations  of  Success. — Savages  Leagued  with  the  Invaders. — Their  Murder  of 
Miss  McCrea. — Burgoyne's  Triumphant  Progress. — Fall  of  Ticonderoga. — American  Victor 
ies  at  Bennington,  etc. — Gates's  Army  in  Fine  Spirits. — General  Fraser  Shot  Dead. — The 
"King's  Regulars"  Desperate. — General  Clinton  Fails  to  Aid  Them. — All  Hope  Abandoned. 
— Burgoyne  Lays  Down  his  Arms. — His  Meeting  with  Gates. — Trophies  of  this  Victory. — 
How  Washington  Got  the  News. — Unbounded  Joy  of  Americans. — Crushing  Blow  to  British 
Pride. — Effect  upon  Other  Nations 7'J 

III. 

FIRST  AMERICAN  NAVAL  VICTORY. — 1779. 

John  Paul  Jones,  Commanding  the  Bon  Ilomme  Richard,  Fights  and  Captures  King  George's 
Powerful  Ship-of-war,  the  Serapis,  in  British  Waters. — Crowds  of  Spectators  Line  the  En 
glish  Coast. — The  Most  Sanguinary  Battle  Ever  Fought  between  Single  Ships. — Jones  is 
Hailed  as  "The  Washington  of  the  Seas." — World-wide  Interest  of  this  Combat. — Commo 
dore  Jones's  Early  Career. — Offers  his  Services  to  Congress. — Appointed  a  Naval  Lieutenant. 
— Joins  the  Continental  Fleet. — The  First  to  Hoist  its  Ensign. — Style  and  Motto  of  the  Flag. 
— Sails  from  France  on  a  Cruise. — Terror  Created  by  His  Movements. — Characteristic  Anec 
dotes. — Two  British  Frigates  in  Sight. — Jones  Ready  for  Bloody  Work. — The  Ships  Muzzle 
to  Muzzle. — Superiority  of  the  Serapis. — A  Most  Deadly  Contest. — Both  Vessels  on  Fire. — 
Jones  Attacked  by  Another  Foe. — One  of  His  Vessels  Treacherous. — Remarkable  Scenes. — 
Britain's  Flag  Struck  to  America. — An  Act  without  Precedent. — Sinking  of  the  Victorious 
Vessel 81 

IV. 

THE  WONDERFUL  DARK  DAY. — 1780. 

The  Northern  States  wrapt  in  a  Dense  Black  Atmosphere  for  Fifteen  Hours. — The  Day  of 
Judgment  Supposed  to  have  Come. — Cessation  of  Labor. — Religious  Devotions  Resorted  to. 
—The  Herds  Retire  to  their  Stalls,  the  Fowls  to  their  Roosts,  and  the  Birds  Sing  Their  Even 
ing  Songs  at  Noonday. — Science  at  Loss  to  Account  for  the  Mysterious  Phenomenon. — One 
of  Nature's  Marvels. — Redness  of  the  Sun  and  Moon. — Approach  of  a  Thick  Vapor. — Loud 
Peals  of  Thunder. — Sudden  and  Strange  Darkness. — Alarm  of  the  Inhabitants. — End  of  the 
World  Looked  For. — Dismay  of  the  Brute  Creation. — An  Intensely  Deep  Gloom. — Difficulty 
in  Attending  to  Business. — Lights  Burning  in  the  Houses. — Vast  Extent  of  the  Occurrence. 
— Condition  of  the  Barometer. — Change  in  the  Color  of  Objects. — Quick  Motion  of  the 
Clouds. — Birds  Suffocate  and  Die. — The  Sun's  Disc  Seen  in  Some  Places. — Oily  Deposit  on 
the  Waters.— Impenetrable  Darkness  at  Night— Incidents  and  Anecdotes.— Ignorant  Whims 
and  Conjectures. — An  Unsolved  Mystery 8U 

V. 

TREASON  OF  MAJOR-GENERAL  BENEDICT  ARNOLD.— 1780. 

Darkest  Page  in  American  Revolutionary  History.— Plot  to  Deliver  West  Point,  the  Gibraltar 
of  America,  Over  to  the  British.— Movements  of  the  Guilty  Parties.— Discovery  and  Frus 
tration  of  the  Crime.— Major  Andre,  the  British  Spy,  is  Captured,  and  Swings  from  a  (Jib- 
bet.— Escape  of  Arnold  to  the  Enemy.— Is  Spurned  and  Isolated  in  England. — Arnold's 
Unquestioned  Bravery.— Commended  by  General  Washington.— Infamous  Personal  Transac 
tions.— Reprimanded  by  His  Chief.— Determines  on  Revenge. — Correspondence  with  the  Foe. 
—Ingratiates  Washington's  Favor  Again.— Obtains  Command  of  West  Point.— Midnight 
Conference  with  Andre.— Andre  Seized  while  Returning.— Astounding  Evidence  Against 


CONTENTS.  19 

Him. — Attempts  to  Bribe  His  Captors. — Carried  to  American  Head-Quarters. — Arnold  Ap 
prised  of  the  Event.— A  Hurried  Farewell  to  His  Wife. — Quick  Pursuit  of  the  Traitor.— He 
Reaches  a  British  Man  of -War. — Washington's  Exclamation  at  the  News. — His  Gallon  Mrs. 
Arnold.— Andre's  Trial  and  Conviction. — Arnold's  Reward  for  His  Crime. — His  Unlameuted 
Death 97 

VI. 

CORNWALLIS  SURRENDERS  His  SPLENDID  AHMY  TO  GENERAL  WASHINGTON. — 1781. 
Final  Catastrophe  to  British  Arms  in  America.— Consternation  and  Despair  in  the  Cabinet  of 
King  George. — Their  Vaunted  Wager  of  Battle  Returns  to  Them  with  the  Loss  of  Their 
Fairest  Possession. — Washington's  Countrymen  Everywhere  Hail  and  Extol  Him  as  Their 
Deliverer. — Last  Act  in  the  Military  Drama. — Cornwallis  Halts  at  Yorktown. — Makes  it  His 
Defensive  Post. — Decoy  Letter  Sent  by  Washington. — The  British  Strongly  Fortified. — 
American  and  French  Forces  United. — Their  Advance  on  the  Enemy. — Furious  Bombard 
ment. — Redoubts  Stormed  by  Lafayette. — Both  Sides  Confident  of  Triumph. — British  Efforts 
to  Retreat. — Cornwallis  Prefers  Death  to  Defeat. — Reckless  Bravery  of  Washington. — Ardor 
and  Exultation  of  His  Troops. — Cornwallis  Fails  of  Re-enforcements. — He  Asks  a  Cessation 
of  Hostilities. — Forced  to  Yield  the  Struggle. — Universal  Rejoicing  of  Americans. — Morti 
fication  of  the  English. — Eloquence  of  Burke,  Fox,  and  Pitt. — They  Demand  that  the  War 
Cease. — The  Voice  of  Parliament. — Commemorative  Action  by  Congress 101 

VII. 

ADIEU  TO  THE  ARMY  BY  WASHINGTON. — 1783. 

Affecting  Interviews  and  Parting  Words  between  the  Great  Chieftain  and  His  Comrades-in- 
Arms. — Solemn  Farewell  Audience  with  Congress. — In  Its  Presence  He  Voluntarily  Divests 
Himself  of  His  Supreme  Authority,  Returns  His  Victorious  Sword,  and  Becomes  a  Private 
Citizen. — History  of  the  Election  of  a  Military  Leader — America's  Destiny  in  His  Hands. 
— Appointment  of  George  Washington. — The  Army  at  Cambridge,  Mass. — He  Immediately 
Takes  Command. — Is  Enthusiastically  Greeted. — Leads  Its  Fortunes  Seven  Years. — Record 
of  His  Generalship. — Ends  the  War  in  Triumph. — Scheme  to  Make  Him  King. — Indig 
nantly  Rebukes  the  Proposal. — Last  Review  of  His  Troops. — His  Strong  Attachment  for 
Them. — Intention  to  Leave  Public  Life. — Congress  Informed  of  this  Fact. — Embarkation 
from  New  York. — Homage  Paid  Him  Everywhere. — Arrival  at  Annapolis. — Proceeds  to  the 
Halls  of  Congress. — Impressive  Ceremonial  There. — Rare  Event  in  Human  History.  .  112 

VIII. 

APPOINTMENT  OF  THE  FIRST  MINISTER  PLENIPOTENTIARY,  FROM  THE  NEW  REPUBLIC 

TO  THE  ENGLISH  COURT. — 1785. 

John  Adams,  America's  Sturdiest  Patriot,  and  the  Foremost  Enemy  of  British  Tyranny,  Fills 
this  High  Office. — Interview  between  Him  and  King  George,  His  Late  Sovereign. — Their 
Addresses,  Temper,  Personal  Bearing,  and  Humorous  Conversation. — The  Two  Men  Rightly 
Matched  against  Each  Other. — Old  Animosities  Unhealed. — Mutual  Charges  of  False  Deal 
ing. — Settlement  Demanded  by  the  United  States. — What  Adams's  Mission  Involved. — Dis 
memberment  of  the  British  Realm. — Loss  of  the  Fairest  Possession. — Bitter  Pill  for  the 
King.— His  Obstinacy  Forced  to  Yield.— Humiliation  of  the  Proud  Monarch.— All  Europe 
Watches  the  Event.— Mr.  Adams  Presented  at  Court.— Patriot  and  King  Face  to  Face.— 
Official  Address  by  the  Minister.— Reply  of  King  George.— His  Visible  Agitation.— Adams's 
Presence  of  Mind.— Pays  His  Homage  to  the  Queen.— Her  Majesty's  Response.— Civilities 
by  the  Royal  Family.— Results  of  this  Embassy.— Pitiable  Position  of  George  the  Third.— 
Fatal  Error  of  Great  Britain 119 

IX. 

FIRST  ORGANIZED  REBELLION  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES. — 1786. 

Daniel  Shays,  at  the  Head  of  an  Armed  and  Desperate  Force,  Boldly  Defies  the  State  and  Fed 
eral  Laws  in  Massachusetts. — "  Taxation  and  Tyranny  "  the  Alleged  Grievances.— Alarming 


20  CONTENTS. 

Disaffection  throughout  all  New  England. — Bud  Leaders  and  Furious  Mobs. — Rout  of  the 
Insurgents,  by  General  Lincoln,  in  the  Dead  of  Winter. — Patriotic  Old  Massachusetts  in  a 
Ferment. — Causes  of  Public  Discontent. — Total  Exhaustion  of  Credit. — Prostration  of  Trade. 
— Ruinous  Debts,  Heavy  Taxation. — Weakness  of  the  Government. — An  Excited  Populace. 
— Turbulence  and  Lawlessness. —  All  Authority  Spurned.— A  Bloody  Conflict  Invited. — 
Courts  of  .Justice  Broken  Up. — Indignation  of  Washington. — Heroism  on  the  Bench. — The 
National  Forces  Augmented. — Fears  of  a  General  Civil  War. — Unscrupulousness  of  Shays. 
— Intention  to  Seize  the  Capital. — Governer  Bovvdoin's  Defenses. — General  Lincoln  in  Com 
mand. — Active  Movement  of  His  Troops. — A  Terrible  Snow-Storm. — Hardships  of  Shays's 
Army. — Federal  Bayonets  Triumphant 125 

X. 

FORMATION  AND  ADOPTION  OF  THE  FEDERAL  CONSTITUTION. — 1787. 

The  United  States  no  Longer  a  People  without  a  Government. — Establishment  of  the  Repub 
lic  on  a  Permanent  Foundation  of  Unity,  Organic  Law  and  National  Polity. — Dignity, 
Learning,  and  Eloquence  of  the  Delegates. — Sublime  Scene  on  Signing  the  Instrument. — 
Extraordinary  Character  of  the  Whole  Transaction. —  State  of  Things  After  the  War. — 
Financial  Embarrassment. — Despondency  of  the  People. — Grave  Crisis  in  Public  Affairs. — 
A  Grand  Movement  Initiated. — Plan  of  Government  to  be  Framed. — All  the  States  in  Con 
vention. — Washington  Chosen  to  Preside. — Statesmen  and  Sages  in  Council. — The  Old  Com 
pact  Abrogated. — New  Basis  of  Union  Proposed. — Various  Schemes  Discussed. — Jealousy  of 
the  Smaller  States. — Angry  Debates,  Sectional  Threats. — Bad  Prospects  of  the  Convention. — 
Its  Dissolution  Imminent. — Franklin's  Impressive  Appeal. — Compromise  and  Conciliation. — 
Final  System  Agreed  Upon. — Patriotism  Rules  all  Hearts. — Ratification  by  the  States. — 
National  Joy  at  the  Decision 132 

XI. 

FIRST  ELECTION  AND  INAUGURATION  OF  A  PRESIDENT  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES. — 1789. 
Washington,  "  First  in  War,  First  in  Peace,  and  First  in  the  Hearts  of  His  Countrymen,"  the 
Nation's  Spontaneous,  Unanimous  Choice. — His  Triumphal  Progress  from  Home,  and  Sol 
emn  Induction  into  Office. — Jubilee  throughout  the  Republic,  over  the  August  Event. — 
Auspicious  Commencement  of  the  National  Executive  Government. — Requirements  of  the 
Constitution. — A  President  to  be  Chosen. — Four  Years  the  Term  of  Service. — All  Eyes 
Fixed  Upon  Washington. — His  Reluctance  to  Accept. — Reasons  Given  for  this  Course. — 
Urgent  Appeals  to  Him. — The  Result  of  the  Election. — One  Voice  and  One  Mind. — He 
Bows  to  the  People's  Will. — Joy  Produced  by  His  Decision. — Departs  at  Once  from  Mount 
Vernon. — Farewell  Visits  to  His  Mother. — Inauguration  Appointed  for  March  Fourth. — 
Postponement  to  April  Thirtieth. — Order  of  Ceremonies. — New  Spectacle  in  the  Western 
Wrorld- — Distinguished  Celebrities  Present. — Washington's  Elegant  Appearance. — Dignity 
when  Taking  the  Oath. — Reverentially  Kisses  the  Bible. — Curious  Customs  Initiated.  .  139 

XII. 

GREATEST  DEFEAT  AND  VICTORY  OF  AMERICAN  ARMS  IN  THE  INDIAN  WARS. — 1791. 
Headlong  Flight  and  Destruction  of  St.  Clair's  Army,  in  1791,  before  the  Trained  Warriors 
of  "  Little  Turtle." — This  Mortifying  Disaster  Retrieved  by  Wayne's  Overwhelming  Tri 
umph  in  1794.— Final  and  Crushing  Blow  Dealt  by  Jackson,  in  1814. — The  Question  of 
Power  between  the  Two  Races  Forever  Settled  in  Favor  of  the  Whites. — Old  Feuds  between 
the  Races. — Harmer's  Expedition  to  the  North-west. — Powerless  in  Ambush  Warfare. — 
Repeated  and  Bloody  Reverses. — St.  Clair  put  in  Command. — Warning  Words  of  Washing 
ton. — Sudden  Attack  by  the  Miamis. — Terrible  Slaughter  of  the  Whites. — Overthrow  of  the 
Whole  Campaign. — Washington's  Reception  of  the  News. — His  Appalling  Wrath. — Sketch 
of  St.  Clair's  Conqueror. — His  Fame  at  Home  and  Abroad. — General  Wayne  Sent  to  the 
Field. — Unsuccessfully  Proffers  Peace. —  Instantly  Prepares  for  Battle. — Great  Army  of 
Indian  Warriors. — Their  Sagacious  Choice  of  Position. — Desperate  Fury  of  the  Conflict. — 
Wayne's  Prowess  Irresistible. — Death  Knell  of  the  Savages.— Their  Confederacy  Shat 
tered ...  146 


CONTENTS.  21 

XIII. 

WHITNEY'S  EXTRAORDINARY  COTTON-GIN  INVENTION. — 1793. 
Amazing  Impetus  Given  to  the  Culture,  Uses  and  Consumption  of  Cotton. — Revolution  in  the 

Industrial  Prospects  and  Political  Power  of  the  South. — How  Cotton  Became  "King." Its 

Relation  to  the  Great  Themes  and  Events  in  American  History. — Ingratitude  to  Whitney. 

His  Brilliant  Change  of  Fortune  in  Another  Sphere. — Whitney's  Obscure  Circumstances. 

His  Early  Mechanical  Genius. — Determined  to  Get  an  Education. — Goes  to  the  South  as  a 
Teacher.— Change  of  Pursuits.— Befriended  by  General  Greene's  Widow.— Amateur  Invent 
ive  Efforts.  —  Low  State  of  Southern  Industry.  —  Objection  to  Cotton-Raising. Mrs. 

Greene's  Apt  Suggestion. — Whitney's  Characteristic  Resolve. — Secret  and  Persevering  Toil. 
—Exciting  Rumors  as  to  His  Purpose. — Great  Expectations  Entertained. — Triumphant  Suc 
cess. — Enthusiasm  of  the  Cotton-Growers. — His  Machine  Stolen  from  Him. — Infringements 

upon  His  Patent. — Law-Suits,  but  no  Redress  for  Him. — His  Pathetic  Letter  to  Fulton. 

He  Invents  a  Valuable  Firearm. — Southern  Strides  in  Wealth 153 

XIV. 

THE  FAMOUS  WHISKEY  INSURRECTION  IN  PENNSYLVANIA. — 1794. 

Violent  Resistance  to  the  United  States  Excise  Laws. — Monster  Meetings  and  Inflammatory 
Appeals. — Officials  and  Loyal  Citizens  Whipped,  Branded,  Tarred,  and  Feathered. — Intense 
Excitement  in  all  the  States. — Washington  Declares  that  the  Union  is  in  Peril  and  Heads  an 
Army  to  Meet  the  Crisis. — Precipitate  Flight  of  the  Armed  Rebels. —  Congressional  Tax  on 
Spirits. — Cry  of  "  Tyranny  !  "  from  Distillers. — Western  Pennsylvania  in  a  Blaze. — Extent  of 
Her  Whiskey  Interests. — Ambitious  Politicians  at  Work. — A  Revolt  Incited  by  Them. — 
Bradford  the  Chief  Desperado. — Reign  of  Terror  Inaugurated. — Tax-Collectors  Roughly 
Handled. — The  Incendiary's  Torch. — "  Tom  the  Tinker's  "  Ruffianism. — Fury  of  the  Fac- 
tionists. — Firm  Courage  of  Loyal  Men. — Perplexity  of  the  United  States  Government. — 
Presidential  Proclamation. — Law  and  Order  to  be  Maintained. — Troops  Summoned  into 
Service. — Prompt  and  Patriotic  Response. — The  Olive  Branch  vs.  the  Sword. — Bradford 
Scorns  Conciliation. — Washington's  Mind  Made  Up. — Prevents  the  Effusion  of  Blood.  160 

XV. 

FOUNDING  AND  ESTABLISHMENT  OF  THE  NATIONAL  CAPITAL. — 1799. 

Bitter  Sectional  Contest  in  Deciding  the  Location. — First  "  Compromise  "  in  Congress  between 
the  North  and  the  South. — Final  Removal  of  the  Government  and  its  Archives  to  Washing 
ton. — Official  Observance  of  the  Event. — Magnificent  Site  and  Plan  of  the  City. — Splendor 
of  its  Public  Buildings. — Congress  First  Sits  in  Philadelphia. — Need  of  a  Permanent  Capi 
tal. — National  Dignity  Involved.— Violent  Agitation  of  the  Subject. — Philadelphia  and  New 
York  Proposed. — They  are  Objected  to  by  the  South. — Northern  Disunion  Threats. — 
Schemes  of  Conciliation. — How  the  Question  was  Settled. — Sweetening  Two  Bitter  Pills. — 
Jefferson's  Graphic  Account. — General  Washington's  Preference. — His  Site  on  the  Potomac 
Adopted. — Some  Rather  Personal  Anecdotes. — Work  of  Laying  Out  the  City. — Its  Original 
Aspect  and  Condition. — Early  Trials  of  the  President's  Wife. — Construction  of  the  Capitol. 
— Its  Corner-Stone  Laid  by  Washington. — Congress  in  its  New  Halls. — Growth  of  the  Me 
tropolis. — The  New  Corner-Stone  of  1851 167 

XVI. 

DEATH  OF  GEORGE  WASHINGTON. — 1799. 

His  Sudden  and  Brief  Illness,  Last  Hours,  and  Dying  Words. — Fortitude  and  Serenity  through 
all  His  Sufferings. — He  Calmly  Announces  His  Approaching  Dissolution  Without  a  Mur 
mur. — The  Whole  World  Does  Honor,  by  Eulogy  and  Lamentations,  to  His  Exalted  Worth 
and  Immortal  Fame. — He  Anticipated  an  Early  Death. — His  Invariably  Good  Health. — 
Exposure  in  a  Snow-Storm. — Takes  a  Fatal  Cold. — Last  Letter  Written  by  His  Hand. — 
Reads  the  Papers  in  the  Evening.— Characteristic  Reply  to  His  Wife.— Passes  a  Restless 
Night.— Alarming  Condition  the  Next  Day.— Medical  Treatment  of  no  Avail.— Calls  for  His 
Two  Wills,  Burns  One.— Affecting  Scene  at  His  Bedside.— Last  Words,  "  'Tis  Well ! "— 


22  CONTENTS. 

Only  One  Day's  Sickness. — Acute  Laryngitis  His  Disease. — Burial  in  the  Old  Family  Vault. 
—Tidings  of  His  Death. — Tributes  from  Peoples  and  Kings. — A  Man  Without  a  Parallel. — • 
Last  Page  in  His  Journal. — Re-entombment  in  1837. — Appearance  of  His  Remains.  .  174 

XVII. 

PUNISHMENT  AND  COMPLETE  DEGRADATION  OF  THE  BARBARY  STATES  BY  THE  YOUNG 

REPUBLIC. — 1803. 

Tribute  Exacted  of  all  the  Nations  of  Christendom,  by  the  Piratical  Powers. — The  Thunder  of 
American  Cannon  before  Their  Cities. — Ignominious  Submission  of  Morocco,  Algiers,  Tunis, 
and  Tripoli. — Their  Audacious  Corsairs  Vanquished  and  Driven  in  Terror  from  the  Seas. — 
A  Boon  to  the  Civilized  World. — Barbary  a  Nation  of  Freebooters. — All  Commerce  at  their 
Mercy. — The  United  States  Unknown  to  Them. — Its  Flag  Descried  on  the  Ocean. — Fresh 
Plunder  Anticipated. — Seizure  of  American  Ships. — Retaliation  by  the  Yankees. — Tripoli's 
Flag  Struck  at  Last. — Treaty  between  the  Belligerents. — New  Exactions  by  the  Algerines. — 
Retribution  in  Store  for  Them. — A  United  States  Frigate  in  the  Pirate  Haunts. — Grounding 
of  the  Philadelphia. — Her  Triumphant  Capture  by  the  Enemy. — Their  Boisterous  Exulta 
tion. — Decatur  Burns  Her  During  the  Night. — Fierce  Rage  of  the  Turks. — Bombardment  of 
Tripoli. — How  "Christian  Dogs"  were  Viewed. — Peace  Sued  for  by  the  Despots. — Their 
Duplicity  and  Treachery. — America's  "  Tribute  "  is  Powder  and  Balls 182 

XVIII. 

FATAL  DUEL  BETWEEN  MR.  BURR  AND  GENERAL  ALEXANDER  HAMILTON. — 1801. 
Fall  of  Hamilton  at  First  Fire. — His  Death  in  Thirty  Hours. — Profound  Sensation  and  Solemn 
Obsequies  in  all  Parts  of  the  Land. — Mourned  as  One  of  the  Founders  of  the  Republic. — 
Indictment  of  the  Assassin  for  the  Crime  of  Murder. — Hamilton's  Brilliant  Public  Life. — 
Washington's  Right-hand  Man. — Champion  of  the  Federalists. — Burr's  Career  in  the  Revo 
lution. — His  Notorious  Debauchery. —  Finally  Dismissed  by  Washington. — Becomes  Vice- 
President  in  1800. — Deadly  Personal  Hatreds. — Criticisms  on  Burr  by  His  Opponents. — 
Challenge  Sent  to  Hamilton. — Pacific  Explanations  Spurned. — Forced  to  Meet  Burr. — Makes 
His  Will  in  Anticipation. — Sings  at  a  Banquet  the  Day  Before. — Arrival  of  the  Fatal  Hour. 
— Hamilton's  Mortal  Wound. — What  He  Said  of  the  Event. — Conversation  before  Dying. — 
Partakes  of  the  Communion. — His  Testimony  against  Dueling. — Heartless  Conduct  of 
Burr. — A  Fugitive  and  an  Outlaw 189 

XIX. 

TOTAL  SOLAR  ECLIPSE  AT  MID-DAY. — 1806. 

The  Darkness  of  Night  Falls  upon  the  Earth.— Stars  and  Planets  in  Full  Radiance.— Magnifi 
cent  Spectacle  of  the  Glittering  Corona  around  the  Moon  and  the  Brilliant  Rosy  Protuber 
ances  Flaming  from  the  Sun. — Splendor  of  the  Returning  Night. — Similar  Eclipse  in  18GD. 
— Millions  of  Faces  Turned  Upward. — The  Phenomenon  Viewed  with  Curiosity,  Wonder, 
and  Absorbed  Delight. — Remarkably  Fine  Weather. — Serene  and  Cloudless  Heavens. — Busi 
ness  Pursuits  Abandoned.— The  Moon  Crossing  the  Sun.— Distinctness  of  the  Lunar  Orb.— 
Grand,  Dark,  Majestic,  Mighty.— Total  Obscurity  Some  Five  Minutes.— Appearance  of 
Nature.— Sensations  Produced  in  the  Mind.— Involuntary  Exclamations.— Effect  on  Birds 
and  Animals. — Triumphs  of  Astronomical  Science. — Exquisitely  Constructed  Instruments. 
— Revelations  of  the  Spectroscope. — Great  Thermometrical  Changes. — Spots  on  the  Sun  Ex 
amined.— Openings  in  the  Moon.— Peculiar  Color  of  that  Body.— Its  Dark  and  Dismal 
Shadows.— Search  for  New  Stars.— Meteors  'mid  Earth  and  Moon.— Climax  of  the  Impres 
sive  Scene 19(3 

XX. 

CONSPIRACY  AND  TRIAL  OF  AARON  BURR.— 1806. 

Lawless  Scheme  of  Conquest  and  Dominion  at  the  South-west.— A  New  Empire  Contemplated, 
with  Burr  as  Sovereign.— Seizure  of  His  Flotilla  and  Dispersion  of  His  Men  when  Ready 
to  Embark,  by  the  Federal  Forces. — Capture  and  Arraignment  of  Burr  for  High  Treason.— 


CONTENTS.  23 

Reckless  Character  of  Burr. — His  Unscrupulous  Ambitions. — Enlists  Blennerhassett  in  His 
Plans. — Their  Expedition  Arranged. — Mexico  the  Ultimate  Point. — Discovery  of  the  Whole 
Plot. — Its  Complete  Frustration. — Burr  Flees  in  Disguise. — Scene  at  His  Arrest. — Attempt 
to  Escape. — The  Iron-Hearted  Man  in  Tears. — His  Social  Fascination. — Preparations  for  the 
Trial. — Its  Legal  and  Forensic  Interest. — Acquittal  on  Technical  Grounds. — Shunned  as  a 
Man  of  Infamy. — Devotion  of  His  Daughter  Theodosia. — Lifelong  and  Unalterable  Love. — 
Her  Mysterious  Fate. — Burr's  Anguish  and  Agony. — A  Moral  AVreck  and  Warning.  .  204 

XXI. 

FULTON'S  TRIUMPHANT  APPLICATION  OF  STEAM  TO  NAVIGATION. — 1807. 
First  Steam-boat  Voyage  on  American  Waters  under  His  Direction. — Astonishment  Produced 
by  the  Exhibition. — Great  Era  in  National  Development. — The  World  at  Large  Indebted  to 
American  Ingenuity  and  Enterprise  for  this  Mighty  Revolutionary  Agent  in  Human  Prog 
ress  and  Power. — The  Whole  Scale  of  Civilization  Enlarged. — Fulton's  Early  Mechanisms. 
— His  Inventive  Projects  Abroad. — Steam  Propulsion  the  End  Sought. — Various  Experi 
ments  and  Trials. — Livingston's  Valued  Co-operation. — Studying  the  Principle  Involved. — 
Its  Discovery  at  Last. — Legislative  Encouragement  Asked. — Public  Ridicule  of  the  Scheme. 
—  Construction  of  a  Steam-boat. — The  "  Queer-Looking  Craft." — Incidents  at  the  Launch. — 
Undaunted  Confidence  of  Fulton. — Sailing  of  the  "  New-Fangled  Craft." — Demonstrations 
Along  the  Route. — Complete  Success  of  the  Trip. — First  Passage  Money. — That  Bottle  of 
Wine. — Opposition  Lines,  and  Racing.— First  Steam-boat  at  the  West. — Amazing  Subse 
quent  Increase. — Fulton's  Checkered  Fortunes 212 


XXII. 

EXTENSIVE  AND   CALAMITOUS  EARTHQUAKE  AT  THE  WEST. — 1811. 

Its  Convulsive  Force  Felt  All  Over  the  Valley  of  the  Mississippi  and  to  the  Atlantic  Coast. — 
The  Earth  Suddenly  Bursts  Open  and  a  Vast  Region  of  Country  is  Sunk  and  Lost. — Awful 
Chasms  and  Upheavals. — Ruin  and  Desolation  Brought  upon  the  Inhabitants. — Humboldt's 
Interesting  Opinion  of  the  Western  Earthquake. — Its  Central  Point  of  Violence. — Terrible 
Consternation  Produced. — The  Ground  Swellings  and  Crackings. — Great  Agitation  of  the 
Waters.— Houses  Buried,  Boats  Wrecked. — Giant  Forests  Crushed.— Purple  Tinge  of  the 
Atmosphere.— Thunder,  Lightning,  Flood,  etc.— A  Mighty  Struggle.— Hills  and  Islands  Dis 
appear. — Burial  Grounds  Engulfed. — Nature's  Secrets  Unbosomed. — Lakes  Drained,  New 
One?  Formed.— Present  Aspect  of  the  Country.—  Account  of  the  More  Recent  Earthquakes 
in  California,  Their  Characteristics  and  Destructiveness.— Most  Serious  in  San  Francisco.— 
Lives  and  Property  Lost.— Women  and  Children  Panic-Struck.— Direction  of  the  Shocks. — 
Indications  of  Their  Approach. — Effect  in  the  Harbor  and  Bay 218 


XXIII. 

CAPTURE  OF  THE  BRITISH  FRIGATE  GUERRIERE  BY  THE  UNITED  STATES  FRIGATE  CON 
STITUTION. — 1812. 

Captain  Dacres's  Insolent  Challenge  to  the  American  Navy.— Captain  Hull's  Eager  Accept 
ance.— His  Unrivaled  Tactics  and  Maneuvers.— A  Short,  Terrific,  Decisive  Contest.— Yankee 
Valor  on  the  Ocean  a  Fixed  Fact,  Sternly  Respected.— The  Constitution  Becomes  the  Favor 
ite  Ship  of  the  Nation  and  is  Popularly  Called  "  Old  Ironsides."— Cruise  of  the  Constitution. 
—Hull,  the  "  Sea  King,"  in  Command.— A  Sail!  The  Enemy's  Squadron !— Chased  Three 
Days  by  Them.— Rowing  and  Warping  in  a  Calm.— Most  Wonderful  Escape  on  Record.- 
Another  Frigate  in  Sight,  the  Guerriere.— Her  Signals  of  Defiance.— Yankee  Eagerness  for 
Action.— The  Two  Frigates  Afoul.— Yard-Arm  to  Yard- Arm  Encounter.— Fire  of  the  Con 
stitution  Reserved.— Final  and  Deadly  Broadsides.— Fearless  Conduct  of  Her  Crew.— British 
Colors  Hauled  Down.— Sinking  of  the  Shattered  Wreck.— Armament  and  Power  of  the 
Ships.— An  Almost  Equal  Match.— Anecdotes  of  the  Two  Commanders.— Honors  to  t 
Brave  Victors.— Future  Annals  of  the  Constitution.— Her  Varied  and  Noble  Career.  .  225 


24  CONTENTS. 

XXIV. 

AMERICA  AND  ENGLAND  MATCHED  AGAINST  EACH  OTHER  IN  SQUADRON  COMBAT. — 1813. 

Lake  Erie  the  Scene  of  the  Encounter. — Sixteen  Vessels  Engaged. — The  British,  under  Captain 
Barclay,  one  of  Lord  Nelson's  Veteran  Officers,  and  with  a  Superior  Force,  are  Thoroughly 
Beaten  by  the  Americans,  under  Commodore  Oliver  II.  Perry. — Every  British  Vessel  Cap 
tured. — General  Harrison  Completes  the  Victorious  Work  on  Land. — Building  of  the  Fleet 
on  the  Lake. — Great  Difficulties  to  be  Overcome. — Commodore  Perry  the  Master  Spirit. — 
Completion  and  Sailing  of  the  Fleet. — Challenge  to  the  Enemy. — Line  of  Battle  Formed. — 
Perry's  Blue  Union-Jack. — Its  Motto,  "Don't  Give  Up  the  Ship  !  " — Wild  Enthusiasm  of  His 
Men. — Flagship  Lawrence  in  the  Van. — Meets  the  Whole  Opposing  Fleet. — Badly  Crippled 
in  a  Two  Hours'  Fight. — Huzzas  of  the  Enemy. — The  Day  Supposed  to  be  Theirs. — Indomi 
table  Resolution  of  Perry. — He  Puts  Off  in  an  Open  Boat. —  Reaches  the  Niagara  with  His 
Flag. — Again  Battles  with  the  Foe. — Severe  and  Deadly  Conflict. — American  Prowess  Invin 
cible. — Barclay  Strikes  His  Colors. — Perry  only  Twenty-seven  Years  Old 234 

XXV. 

CONQUEST  AND  BURNING  OF  WASHINGTON,  BY  THE  BRITISH. — 1814. 

Precipitate  Flight  of  the  President  of  the  United  States,  and  His  Cabinet. — The  Capitals  of 
Europe  Protected  from  Fire  and  Devastation  by  Their  Conquerors. — Contrast  of  British  War 
fare  in  America. — The  Capitol,  Presidential  Mansion,  etc.,  Sacked  and  Fired. — National  In 
dignation  Aroused  by  these  Barbarities. — Veterans  from  Europe's  Battle-Fields  Execute 
these  Deeds. — Orders  to  "  Lay  Waste  "  the  American  Coast. — Operations  at  the  South. — 
Washington  the  Prize  in  View. — Inefficiency  of  its  Defense. — Wrinder  and  Barney  in  Com 
mand. — The  Idea  of  an  Attack  Scouted. — Onward  March  of  the  Invaders. — Fearful  Excite 
ment  in  the  City.— High  Officials  in  Camp. — The  Armies  at  Bladensburg. — Winder  De 
feated,  Barney  Taken. — Ross's  Progress  Unopposed. — Complete  Master  of  the  City. — A  Rush 
for  the  Spoils. — British  Soldiers  in  the  White  House. — They  Eat  the  President's  Dinner. — 
Cockburn's  Bold  Infamy. — Retreat  of  the  Vandal  Foe. — Their  March  upon  Baltimore. — Ross 
Shot  Dead  in  the  Fight 242 

XXVI. 

MCDONOUGH'S  NAVAL  VICTORY  ON  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. — 1814. 

The  Projected  British  Invasion  of  the  Northern  States,  by  Land  and  Water,  Frustrated  by  an 
Overwhelming  Blow  on  their  Favorite  Element. — Most  Unexpected  and  Mortifying  Result 
to  the  Enemy's  Pride. — Not  One  of  the  Seventeen  British  Ensigns  Visible  Two  Hours  After 
the  Opening  of  the  Action  by  Downie. — McDonough's  Laconic  Message. — British  Advance 
on  New  York. — Grand  Scheme  of  Conquest. — Picked  Men  Employed. — Great  Land  and 
Naval  Force. — Their  Fleet  on  Lake  Champlain. — Downie,  a  Brave  Officer,  Commands. — 
Flushed  Confidence  of  Victory. — Pleasure  Parties  to  "  See  the  Fight." — Pluck  of  Commo 
dore  McDonough.— His  Prayer  on  the  Eve  of  Battle. — Strange  and  Beautiful  Omen. — Its 
Inspiriting  Effect  on  the  Men.— McDonough  Sights  the  First  Gun.— The  Flagships  in  Close 
Grapple.— Their  Aspect  Like  a  Sheet  of  Fire.— Tremendous  Cannonade.— The  Two  Fleets 
in  Full  Action. —  Desperate  Situation  of  Both. —  McDonough's  Extraordinary  Resort. — 
Downie  Completely  Circumvented. — At  the  Mercy  of  the  Americans. — No  English  Flag  on 
the  Lakes 250 

XXVII. 
GENERAL  JACKSON'S  TERRIBLE  ROUT  AND  SLAUGHTER  OF  THE  BRITISH  ARMY,  AT  NEW 

ORLEANS. — 1815. 

His  Consummate  Generalship  in  the  Order  and  Conduct  of  this  Campaign.— The  War  with 
England  Terminated  by  a  Sudden  and  Splendid  Victory  to  the  American  Arms.— Jackson  is 
Hailed  as  One  of  the  Greatest  of  Modern  Warriors,  and  as  the  Deliverer  and  Second  Savior 
of  His  Country.— National  Military  Prestige  Gained  by  this  Decisive  Battle.— British  Inva 
sion  of  Louisiana.— Preparations  to  Resist  Them.— Jackson  Hastens  to  New  Orleans.— His 
Presence  Inspires  Confidence.— Martial  Law  Proclaimed.— Progress  of  the  British  Forces.— 


CONTENTS.  25 

They  Rendezvous  at  Ship  Island. — Pirates  and  Indians  for  Allies. — Capture  of  the  United 
States  Flotilla. — Arrival  of  Veterans  from  England. — Desperate  Attempts  at  Storming. — 
Both  Armies  Face  Each  Other. — The  Day  of  Action,  January  Eighth. — General  Pakenham 
Leads  the  Charge. — His  Motto,  "Booty  and  Beauty." — Fire  and  Death  Open  Upon  Them. — 
They  Are  Mown  Down  Like  Grass. — Pakenham  Falls  at  the  Onset. — Panic  and  Precipitate 
Retreat. — America's  Motto,  "  Victory  or  Death." — The  Result  at  Home  and  Abroad. — Start 
ling  and  Impressive  Effect 257 


XXVIII. 

THE  EVER-MEMORABLE  SEPTEMBER  GALE. — 1815. 

Its  Violence  and  Destructiveness  without  a  Parallel  Since  the  Settlement  of  the  Country. — 
Terror  Excited  by  its  Sudden  and  Tumultuous  Force. — Unprecedented  Phenomena  of  Tem 
pest,  Deluge  and  Flood. — One  Hour  of  Indescribable  Havoc  on  the  Land  and  Sea. — Premon 
itory  Indications. — Heavy  North-east  Rains. — Sudden  and  Violent  Changes  of  Wind. — Its 
Rapidity  and  Force  Indescribable. — Demolition  of  Hundreds  of  Buildings. — Orchards  and 
Forests  Instantly  Uprooted. — Raging  and  Foaming  of  the  Sea. — Its  Spray  Drives  like  a 
Snow-Storm  over  the  Land. — Tremendous  Rise  in  the  Tides. — Irresistible  Impetuosity  of  the 
Flood. — Several  Feet  of  Water  in  the  Streets. — Innumerable  Fragments  Fill  the  Air. — Flight 
for  Safety  to  the  Fields. — The  whole  Coast  Swarms  with  Wr  recks. — Perils,  Escapes,  Fatali 
ties. — Peculiar  Meteorological  Facts. — Bright  Skies  in  the  Midst  of  the  Tempest. — Suffo 
cating  Current  of  Hot  Air. — Sea  Fowls  in  the  Depths  of  the  Interior. — Effect  upon  Lands, 
Crops,  and  Wells. — All  New  England  Desolated. — Comparison  with  Other  Gales.  .  .  264 


XXIX. 

VISIT  OF  LAFAYETTE  TO  AMERICA,  AS  THE  GUEST  OF  THE  REPUBLIC. — 1824. 
His  Tour  of  Five  Thousand  Miles  through  the  Twenty-four  States. — A  National  Ovation  on 
the  Grandest  Scale. — Cities,  States,  Legislatures  and  Governors,  Vie  in  Their  Demonstrations 
of  Respect. — The  Venerable  Patriot  Enters  the  Tomb  and  Stands  beside  the  Remains  of  his 
Great  Departed  Friend,  Washington. — Noble  Qualities  of  the  Marquis. — A  Favorite  of 
Louis  XVI. — Hears  of  the  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill. — Pleads  the  Cause  of  the  Americans. — 
Resolves  to  Join  their  Army. — Freely  Consecrates  his  Vast  Wealth. — Equips  a  Vessel  and 
Embarks. — Introduced  to  General  Washington. — Admiration  of  Him  by  the  Chieftain. — One 
of  Washington's  Military  Family. — A  Major-General  in  His  Nineteenth  Year. — Heroic  Fi 
delity  During  the  War. — Subsequent  Vicissitudes  in  France. — America's  Heart-felt  Sym 
pathy.— He  Leaves  Havre  for  New  York. — Enthusiasm  Excited  by  his  Presence. — Incidents, 
Interviews,  Fetes. — Greetings  with  Old  Comrades. — Memories  Joys  and  Tears. — Departs  in 
the  United  States  Ship  Lafayette.— His  Death  in  1834.— National  Grief 272 


XXX. 

DUEL  BETWEEN  HENRY  CLAY,  SECRETARY  OF  STATE,  AND  JOHN  RANDOLPH,  UNITED 
STATES  SENATOR  FROM  VIRGINIA. — 1826. 

Randolph's  Bitter  Insult  to  Clay  on  the  Floor  of  the  Senate.— Accuses  him  of  Falsifying  an 
Official  Document.— The  Puritan  and  "  Blackleg  "  Taunt.— Clay  Challenges  the  Senator  to 
Mortal  Combat.— Words  and  Acts  of  these  Two  Foremost  Men  of  their  Times,  on  the  "  Field 
of  Honor."— Result  of  the  Hostile  Meeting. — Fame  of  these  Party  Leaders.— Ancient  Politi 
cal  Antagonists.— Origin  of  the  Present  Dispute.— Randolph's  Gift  of  Sarcasm.— Applies  it 
Severely  to  Clay.— Clay  Demands  Satisfaction.— Reconciliation  Refused.— Bladensburg  the 
Dueling  Ground.— Pistols  the  Weapons  Chosen.— Colonel  Benton  a  Mutual  Friend.— Inci 
dents  the  Night  Before.— Randolph's  Secret  Resolve.— Going  to  the  Field  of  Blood.— View 
of  this  Shrine  of  "  Chivalry."— Salutations  of  the  Combatants.— Solemn  Interest  of  the 
Scene. — Distance  Ten  Paces.— A  Harmless  Exchange  of  Shots.— Clay  Calls  it  "Child's 
Play  I  "—Another  Fire.  —  No  Injury.  —  "  Honor  "  Satisfied.  —  Pleasant  Talk  with  Each 
Other.  2S2 


26  CONTEXTS. 

XXXI. 

FIFTIETH   ANNIVERSARY  AND   CELEBRATION  OF  THE  INDEPENDENCE  OF  THE 

REPUBLIC.— 1S26. 

Sudden  and  Simultaneous  Death  of  Ex-Presidents  John  Adams  and  Thomas  Jefferson,  its  Two 
Most  Illustrious  Founders. — The  Day  of  Resounding  Joy  and  Jubilee  Changed  to  One  of 
Profound  National  Sorrow. — No  Historical  Parallel  to  Such  a  Remarkable  Coincidence. — 
World-Renowned  Career  of  these  Statesmen. — Extraordinary  Preparations  for  the  Day. — 
Adams  and  Jefferson  then  Alive. — Sires  and  Patriarchs  of  the  Nation. — Their  Names  House 
hold  Words. — Invited  to  Share  in  the  Festivities. — They  Hail  the  Glorious  Morn. — Great 
Rejoicings ;  Death's  Summons. — Jefferson's  Distinguishing  Honor. — Adams's  Patriotic  Lus 
ter. — Their  Imperishable  Deeds. — Calm  Yet  High  Enthusiasm. — Hostile  Leaders  in  After- 
Life. — Racy  and  Piquant  Anecdote. — Crisis  Point  in  Adams's  Fortunes. — His  Last  Toast 
for  His  Country, — "Independence  Forever." — Two  Sages  in  Old  Age. — Serenity,  Wisdom, 
Dignity. — Former  Friendship  Revived. — Letters  of  Mutual  Attachment. — European  Admir 
ation  Excited. — Reverence  to  Their  Colossal  Fame • 291 

XXXII. 

THE  "GREAT  DEBATE"  BETWEEN  WEBSTER  AND  HAYNE,  IN  CONGRESS. — 1830. 
Vital  Constitutional  Issues  Discussed. —  Unsurpassed  Power  and  Splendor  of  Senatorial  Elo 
quence. — Webster's  Speech  Acknowledged  to  be  the  Grandest  Forensic  Achievement  in  the 
Whole  Range  of  Modern  Parliamentary  Efforts. — Golden  Age  of  American  Oratory. — Un 
precedented  Interest  and  Excitement  Produced  in  the  Public  Mind. — No  American  Debate 
Comparable  with  This. — Known  as  "The  Battle  of  the  Giants." — Inflamed  Feeling  at  the 
South. — Hayne's  Brilliant  Championship. — His  Speech  Against  the  North. — Profound  Im 
pression  Created. — Its  Dash,  Assurance,  Severity. — Bitter  and  Sweeping  Charges. — His  Op- 
ponents  Wonder-Struck. — Webster  has  the  Floor  to  Reply. — An  Ever-Memorable  Day. — 
Intense  Anxiety  to  Hear  Him. — Magnificent  Personal  Appearance. — His  Exordium;  All 
Hearts  Enchained. — Immense  Intellectual  Range. — Copious  and  Crushing  Logic. — Accumu 
lative  Grandeur  of  Thought. — Thrilling  Apostrophe  to  the  Union. — The  Serious,  Comic, 
Pathetic,  etc. — Hayne's  Argument  Demolished. — Reception  Accorded  the  Speech. — Rival 
Orators ;  Pleasant  Courtesies 297 

xxxm. 

RISE  AND  PROGRESS  OF  THE  MORMONS,  OR  "  LATTER-DAY  SAINTS,"  UNDER  JOSEPH 
SMITH,  THE  "PROPHET  OF  THE  LORD."— 1830. 

His  Assumed  Discovery  of  the  Golden  Plates  of  a  New  Bible.— Apostles  Sent  Forth  and  Con 
verts  Obtained  in  All  Parts  of  the  World. — Founding  and  Destruction  of  Nauvoo,  the  '•  City 
of  Zion." — Smith's  Character. — Removal  to  Utah,  the  "  Promised  Laud." — Smith  the  "  Mo 
hammed  of  the  West." — His  Origin  and  Repute. — Pretended  Supernatural  Interviews. — 
Revelations  of  Divine  Records.— Finds  and  Translates  Them.— Secret  History  of  this 
Transaction.— Pronounced  to  be  a  Fraud.— Teachings  of  the  Mormon  Bible.— Smith  Claims 
to  be  Inspired.— Announced  as  a  Second  Savior.— Organization  of  the  First  Church.— 
Strange  Title  Adopted.— Smith's  Great  Personal  Influence.— Rapid  Increase  of  the  Sect. — 
Settlement  at  the  West.— Violent  Opposition  to  Them.— Outrages,  Assassinations,  Riots. — 
Polygamy  "  Divinely  "  Authorized.— Smith  in  Jail  as  a  Criminal.— Is  Shot  Dead  by  a  Furi 
ous  Mob.— Brigham  Young  His  Successor.— The  "  New  Jerusalem." 306 

xxxrv. 

CAREER,  CAPTURE,  AND  EXECUTION  OF  GIBBS,  THE  MOST  NOTED  PIRATE  OF  THE  CEN* 

TURY.— 1831. 

His  Bold,  Enterprising,  Desperate,  and  Successful  War,  for  Many  Years,  Against  the  Com 
merce  of  All  Nations.— Terror  Inspired  by  His  Name  as  the  Scourge  of  the  Ocean  and  the 
Enemy  of  Mankind.— Scores  of  Vessels  Taken,  Plundered  and  Destroyed.— Their  Crews 
and  Passengers,  Male  and  Female,  Instantly  Butchered.— Gibbs  Born  in  Rhode  Island— 


CONTENTS.  27 

Joins  the  Privateer  Maria. — Captures  Her  in  a  Mutiny. — Hoists  the  Black  Flag. — Gibbs 
Chosen  Leader. — Rendezvous  at  Cape  Antonio. — Booty  Sold  in  Havana. — No  Lives  Spared. 
— One  Beautiful  Girl  Excepted.— Atrocious  Use  Made  of  Her. — The  Maria  Chased  All  Day. 
—Her  Final  Abandonment. — A  New  Craft  :  Rich  Prizes.— Fight  with  a  United  States 
Frigate. — Gibbs  Overmatched  and  Flees. — Fatal  Voyage  in  the  Vineyard. — Lands  at  South 
ampton.  L.  I. — His  Infamy  Brought  to  Light. — Arrested  with  His  Treasure. — Confession  of 
His  Guilt. — Black  Record  of  Crime  and  Blood.— Close  of  His  Ill-Starred  Life.  .  .  .  314 

XXXV. 

NULLIFICATION  OUTBREAK  IN  SOUTH  CAROLINA,  UNDER  THE  LEAD  OF  CALHOUN, 
McDuFFiE,  HAYNE,  AND  OTHERS. — 1832. 

State  Sovereignty,  instead  of  the  Federal  Government,  Claimed  by  Them  to  be  Supreme. — 
The  Wrath  of  President  Jackson  Aroused. — His  Stern  and  Heroic  Will  Upholds  the  Na 
tional  Authority  and  Saves  the  Union  from  Anarchy  and  from  the  Perils  of  Dismember- 
nvnit. — Momentous  Nature  of  this  Contest. — The  Tariff  a  Rock  of  Offense. — Action  in  the 
"  Palmetto  "  State. — Anti-National  and  Defiant. — Pacific  Proposals  Scouted. — A  Political 
Dinner  in  Washington.— Jackson's  and  Calhoun's  Toasts. — Plan  of  the  Conspirators. — A 
Bomb-shell  in  Their  Camp. — Convention  of  Agitators  in  Columbia. — Nullification  Ordinance 
Passed. — "  Old  Hickory  "  Bold  and  Resolute. — His  Peremptory  Proclamation. —  South  Caro 
lina's  Counter-Blast. — United  States  Troops  Sent  to  Charleston. — Presidential  Idea  of  Com 
promising. — Clay's  Conciliation  Scheme. — The  Leading  Nullifiers  in  Danger. — Jackson 
Threatens  to  Hang  Them. — They  are  Roused  from  Bed  at  Midnight. — Two  Alternatives 
Presented. — Swallowing  a  Bitter  Pill 320 

XXXVI. 

SUBLIME  METEORIC  SHOWER  ALL  OVER  THE  UNITED  STATES. — 1833. 

The  Most  Grand  and  Brilliant  Celestial  Phenomenon  Ever  Beheld  and  Recorded  by  Man. — The 
Whole  Firmament  of  the  Universe  in  Fiery  Commotion  for  Several  Hours. — Amazing  Veloc 
ity,  Size,  and  Profusion  of  the  Falling  Bodies. — Their  Intense  Heat,  Vivid  Colors,  and 
Strange,  Glowing  Beauty. — Unequaled  in  Every  Respect. —  Cloudless  Serenity  of  the  Sky. — 
The  People  Wonder-Struck. — Admiration  Among  the  Intelligent. — Alarm  Among  the  Ignor 
ant. — Conflagration  of  the  World  Feared. — Impromptu  Prayer-Meetings. — Prodigious  Star 
Shower  at  Boston. — Myriads  of  Blood-Red  Fire-balls. — The  Display  at  Niagara  Falls. — Blaz 
ing  Heavens,  Roaring  Cataracts. — Some  of  the  Meteors  Explode. — Trains  of  Light  in  their 
Track. — Radiant  Prismatic  Hues. — Substance  Composing  these  Bodies. — Dissipated  by 
Bursting. — One  Great  Central  Source. — Velocity,  Four  Miles  a  Second. — Novel  Shapes  and 
Motions. — Hotter  than  the  Hottest  Furnace. — Possible  Result  to  the  Earth. — Half  a  Conti 
nent  in  Presumed  Jeopardy 329 

XXXVII. 

ATTEMPTED  ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  JACKSON,  AT  THE  UNITED  STATES  CAPITOL 
IN  WASHINGTON,  BY  RICHARD  LAWRENCE. — 1835. 

Failure  of  the  Pistols  to  Discharge.— The  President  Rushes  Furiously  upon  His  Assailant,  and 
is  Restrained  from  Executing  Summary  Vengeance  only  by  His  Friends.— Political  Hostil 
ity  Supposed,  at  first,  to  have  Instigated  the  Act.— Lawrence  Proves  to  be  a  Lunatic,  without 
Accomplices. — His  History  and  Trial.— Funeral  of  a  Member  of  Congress.— Great  Concourse 
at  the  Capitol.— President  Jackson  and  Cabinet  Present.— Lawrence  Enters  during  the  Ser 
mon.— Moves  to  the  Eastern  Portico. — President  Jackson  Leaves  with  Secretary  Woodbury. 
— Their  Carriage  at  the  Portico  Steps. — Approach  to  Lawrence's  Position. — He  Levels  a 
Pistol  at  Jackson.— Explosion  of  the  Percussion  Cap.— A  Second  Pistol  Snapped.— Jackson 
Raises  His  Cane  Fiercely.— Lion-like  Energy  of  the  Old  Hero.— Is  with  Difficulty  Kept  Back. 
—Lawrence  Stunned  and  Secured.— His  Perfect  Calmness  through  All.— The  Crowd  Wish  to 
Kill  Him.— Fine  Appearance  of  the  Assassin.— Frank  Avowal  of  His  Motives.— Insane  Idea 
Possessing  Him. — Claims  to  be  a  King.— Is  Confined  in  a  Mad-house 337 


28  CONTENTS. 

XXXVIII. 

MORSE'S  INVENTION  OF  THE  ELECTRIC  TELEGRAPH. — 1835. 

Realization  of  the  Highest  Ideal  of  a  Mechanical  Miracle.— Principle,  Structure,  and  Operation 
of  the  Machine. — Net- Work  of  Lines  Established  Over  the  Four  Continents. — The  Inventor's 
Experiments,  Labors,  Discouragements,  and  Triumphs. — "Orders  of  Glory,"  Gifts,  and 
Other  Honors,  Bestowed  upon  Him  by  Crowned  Heads. — Casual  Origin  of  the  Invention. — 
Mr.  Morse's  European  Voyage  in  1832. — Recent  French  Experiments  then  Discussed. — Im 
portant  Question  and  Answer. — Two  Great  Existing  Facts. — The  Electric  Spark  Transmis- 
sive. — Easy  Control  of  the  Current. — Theory  Applied  to  Practice. — Completion  of  a  Crude 
Model. — Private  Exhibition  in  1835. — Simplicity  of  the  Instrument. — The  Invention  Made 
Public  in  1837.— Wonder  and  Incredulity. — Appeal  to  Congress  for  Pecuniary  Aid. — Merci 
less  Ridicule  Ensues. — Scene  in  the  Committee-Room. — A  Machine  at  the  Capitol. — Perfect 
in  Its  Operation. — Success  of  Morse's  Appeal. — His  Joy  at  the  Decision. — Putting  Up  the 
Wires  to  Baltimore. — First  Message  Through 345 

XXXIX. 

TREMENDOUS  FIRE  IN  NEW  YORK  CITY. — 1835. 

Its  Destructiveness  Unparalleled,  up  to  this  Period,  in  the  Western  World. — Resistless  Devas 
tation  for  Sixteen  Hours  in  Midwinter. — A  Pall  of  Ruin  and  Desolation  over  the  Richest 
Business  Locality  in  America. — Nearly  Seven  Hundred  Warehouses,  Filled  with  Costly  Mer 
chandise,  and  the  Commerce  of  Every  Clime,  Laid  in  Ashes. — Loss  Upwards  of  Eighteen 
Millions. — Peculiar  Seat  of  this  Fire. — The  Money  Center  of  America. — Breaking  Out  in  the 
Evening. — Fury  of  the  North  Wind. — The  Flames  Spread  Violently.— Bitter  and  Intense 
Cold. — Freezing  of  the  Engine  Water. — All  the  Elements  Hostile. — Human  Endeavors  Pow 
erless. — Acres  on  Fire  at  Midnight. — Sweeps  from  Point  to  Point. — Mingled  Horror  and 
Sublimity. — Efforts  to  Save  the  Exchange. — Fate  of  that  Splendid  Pile. — Fall  of  its  Magnifi 
cent  Dome. — Numberless  Reverses  of  Fortune. — Rich  Men  Made  Penniless. — A  Singular 
Exception. — Swarms  of  Bold  Robbers. — Military  Protection  Required. — Discovery  of  a 
Diabolical  Crime. — Supposed  Cause  of  the  Fire 353 

XL. 

STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  RIGHT  OF  PETITION  IN  CONGRESS. — 1836. 

John  Quincy  Adams,  the  "Old  Man  Eloquent,"  Carries  on  a  Contest  of  Eleven  Days,  Single- 
Handed,  in  its  Defense  in  the  House  of  Representatives. — Passage  of  the  "  Gag  Rule." — Ex 
pulsion  and  Assassination  Threatened. — His  Unquailing  Courage. — A  Spectacle  Unwitnessed 
before  in  the  Halls  of  Legislation. — Triumph  of  His  Master  Mind. — The  Right  of  Petition  a 
Constitutional  One. — Indiscriminate  and  Unrestricted. — Anti-Slavery  Petitions.  Mr.  Adams 
Their  Champion. — An  Unpopular  Position. — He  Defies  Every  Menace. — His  Bold  and  In 
trepid  Conduct. — The  North  and  South  at  Variance. — Monster  Petitions  Pour  In. — A  Me 
morial  from  Slaves. — Wild  Tumult  in  the  House.— Cries  of  "Expel  the  Old  Scoundrel!"— 
Proposal  to  Censure  and  Disgrace  Him. — Mr.  Adams  Unmoved  Amidst  the  Tempest. — Elo 
quence  and  Indomitableness. — A  Petition  to  Dissolve  the  Union. — Increased  Exasperation. 
— Violent  and  Denunciatory  Debate. — Sublime  Bearing  of  Mr.  Adams. — Vindicated  and 
Victorious  at  Last  —What  He  Lived  to  See.— Honor  from  His  Opponents 302 

XLI. 

PASSAGE  OF  BENTON'S  FAMOUS  "EXPUNGING  RESOLUTION,"  IN  THE  U.  S.  SENATE,  AFTER 
A  THREE  YEAUS  PARLIAMENTARY  STRUGGLE. — 1837. 

Vindication  of  President  Jackson  against  the  Condemnatory  Sentence  Passed  by  that  Body  in 
1834,  for  His  Removal  of  the  Government  Deposites. — Strong  Black  Lines  are  Drawn  Around 
Said  Sentence,  by  the  Secretary,  in  the  Presence  of  the  Senate  and  of  a  Vast  and  Tumultu 
ous  Crowd,  at  Midnight. — Opposition  to  the  United  States  Bank. — Jackson's  Message  against 
It.— Public  Opinion  Divided.— Congress  Grants  a  Charter.— Presidential  Veto  of  this  Bill. — 
Jackson  Denounces  the  Bank. — Declares  it  to  be  Corrupt. — Orders  the  United  States  Funds 
Removed. — Secretary  Duane  Declines  to  Act. — Taney  Succeeds  Him  and  Obeys. — Fierce 


CONTENTS.  29 

Conflict  in  Congress.— Weeks  of  Stormy  Debate. — Proposed  Censure  of  Jackson.— Resolu 
tion  to  this  Effect  Passed. — Benton's  Motion  to  Expunge. — He  Follows  it  up  Unceasingly. — 
His  Consummate  Tact.— Approach  of  the  Decisive  Hour.— Excited  Crowds  Pour  In.— Triumph 
of  the  Master  Spirit. — Execution  of  the  Resolve. — Strange  and  Impressive  Scene.  .  .  373 

XLIL 

MAGNIFICENT  AURORA  BOREALIS  ENCOMPASSING  THE  WHOLE  FIRMAMENT  TO  ITS  FAR 
THEST  BOUNDS. — 1837. 

A  Vast  Canopy  of  Gorgeous  Crimson  Flames  Encircles  the  Earth. — Arches  of  Resplendent 
Auroral  Glories  Span  the  Hemisphere. — Innumerable  Scarlet  Columns  of  Dazzling  Beauty 
Rise  from  the  Horizon  to  the  Zenith. — The  Face  of  Mature  Everywhere  Appears,  to  an  As 
tonished  World,  as  if  Dyed  in  Blood.— Uncommon  Extent  and  Sublimity.— Remarkable 
Duration  and  Aspects. — Intensely  Luminous  Character. — Universal  Outburst  of  Luster. — 
Preceded  by  a  Fall  of  Snow. — First  Signs  of  the  Phenomenon. — Exquisite  Rosy  Illumina 
tion.— The  Snow  Appears  Deep  Red. — A  Fiery  Vermilion  Tinge  to  Nature. — Alarm  Pro 
duced  by  the  Scene. — Great  Moving  Pillar  of  Light. — Vivid  Streamers  in  All  Directions. — 
Pure  White  and  Brilliant  Colors. — Contrast  of  the  Glowing  Tints.— Wide  Fields  of  Rainbow 
Hues.— Radiant  Beauty  Heaven  Wide.— Superlative  Pageant  of  Splendor.— Perfection  of  the 
Stellar  Form. — Millions  of  Wondering  Observers. — Visible  Nearly  the  Whole  Night. — Ac 
counts  from  Different  Points. — Europe's  Share  in  the  Display 379 

XLIII. 

EXPLORING  EXPEDITION  TO  THE  SOUTH  POLE,  UNDER  COMMAND  OF  CAPTAIN  CHARLES 
WILKES,  UNITED  STATES  NAVY. — 1838. 

First  Naval  Enterprise  of  the  Kind  Ever  Undertaken  by  the  American  Navy. — The  Squadron 
Sails  Ninety  Thousand  Miles  in  Four  years. — Extent  and  Importance  of  the  Investigations. 
— Discovery  of  the  Great  Antarctic  Continent. — Other  Geographical,  Nautical,  and  Scientific 
Results. — Selection  of  Officers  and  Vessels. — A  Scientific  Corps  Organized. — Route  Pre 
scribed  ;  Seas  and  Lands. — Enthusiastic  Departure. — Arrival  at  Terra  del  Fuego. — Observa 
tions  at  Cape  Horn. — Excursion  to  the  Cordilleras. — Ascent  of  a  Lofty  Peak. — Desolation 
and  Silence  — New  Islands  Discovered. — An  Observatory  Established. — The  Samoan  Group 
Examined. — Descent  into  an  Extinct  Volcano. — New  South  Wales  Visited. — Extreme  South 
ward  Cruise. — View  of  the  Ice-Bound  Continent. — A  Landing  Effected. — Account  of  this 
Achievement. — Experiences  at  Feejee. — On  the  Summit  of  Mauna-Loa. — Homeward-Bound 
Tracks.— Safe  Arrival 386 

XLIV. 

BREAKING  OUT  OF  THE  TEMPERANCE  REFORMATION. — 1840. 

Origin,  Rapid  Spread,  Influence  and  Wonderful  History  of  the  Movement. — Enthusiasm  At 
tending  the  "  Washingtonian  "  Era. — Its  Pioneers  Rise  from  the  Gutter  to  the  Rostrum,  and 
Sway  Multitudes  by  Their  Eloquence. — Father  Mathew's  Visit. — His  600,000  Converts.— Ca 
reer  of  Hawkins,  Mitchell,  Gough,  Dow,  and  Others. — First  Temperance  Society  in  the 
United  States. — Singular  Terms  of  Membership. — Social  Customs  in  Former  Times. — Unre 
strained  Use  of  Spirits. — Growing  Desire  for  Reform. — Influential  Men  Enlisted. — Meetings, 
Societies,  Agitation. — A  Congressional  Organization. — Origin  of  "  Tee-Totalism." — Deacon 
Giles's  Distillery. — '•  My  Mother's  Gold  Ring." — Rise  of  "  Washingtonianism." — Six  Re 
formed  Drunkards. — Cold  Water  Armies,  Processions,  etc. — Music,  Banners,  and  Badges. — 
The  Country  All  Ablaze. — An  "Apostle  of  Temperance." — Administering  the  Pledge.— Con 
flict  Concerning  Measures. — Anecdotes  of  Washington. — General  Taylor's  Whiskey  Jug. — 
Farragut's  Substitute  for  Grog 393 

XLV. 
FREMONT'S   HEROIC   EXPEDITION   OF   DISCOVERY  TO   THE   UNTRACKED   REGION   OF   THK 

NORTH-WEST,  OREGON,  CALIFORNIA,  ETC. — 1812. 

His  Exploration  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  and  of  that  Wonderful  Gateway  in  the  Rocky  Mount 
ains,  the  South  Pass. — Plants  the  American  Flag  on  the  Highest  Peak  of  that  Lofty  Range. 


30  CONTENTS. 

— He  Enriches  Every  Branch  of  Natural  Science,  and  Illustrates  a  Remote  and  Boundless 
Country  before  Entirely  Unknown.— Fremont  a  Pioneer  of  Empire.— National  Objects  of 
this  Tour. — Enchanting  Record  of  Adventures. —  Surveys  and  Researches. —  Humboldt's 
Tribute  of  Admiration. — Wild  Grandeur  of  the  Route. — Scenes  in  this  Vast  Domain. — 
The  Rocky  Mountains  ;  First  Glimpse. — Formation  of  the  South  Pass. — "  Kit  Carson,"  the 
Intrepid  Guide.— At  the  Topmost  Peak,  14,000  Feet.— Startling  Boldness  of  the  View.— 
Overpowering  Quiet  and  Solitude. — Evidences  of  Awful  Convulsions. —  Unfurling  the  Flag 
of  the  Union.— Appearance  of  Great  Salt  Lake.— Eternal  Snows  of  the  Sierra  Nevada.— In 
the  San  Joaquin  Valley. — An  Immense  Circuit  of  Travel. — Fremont,  the  Modern  Path- 
Fiuder. — Honors  from  his  Countrymen. — A  King's  Gift  and  Regards 402 

XLVI. 

REBELLION  IN  RHODE  ISLAND  UNDER  THOMAS  W.  DORR. — 1812. 

Dissatisfaction  With  the  Old  Restricted  Charter  Granted  by  King  Charles.— Popular  Suffrage 
and  Equal  Political  Privileges  Demanded. —  Resistance  of  the  Party  in  Power  to  these 
Movements. — The  Contestants  Arm  and  Take  the  Field. — Defeat  of  the  Agitators  and  Flight 
of  Dorr. — Ultimate  Prevalence  of  Their  Principles. — A  Charter  Two  Hundred  Years  Old. — 
Its  Monarchical  Provisions. — Suffrage  for  Property  Holders. — Denied  to  all  Others. — An  Ex 
clusive  Legislature. —  Reformed  Measures  Demanded. —  A  People's  Convention  Called. — 
They  Form  a  Constitution. — Proclaimed  the  Supreme  Law. — Legislature  Chosen  under  It. — 
Thomas  W.  Dorr  Elected  Governor.— Is  Treated  as  a  Traitor. — Claims  to  be  the  People's 
Man. — Governor  King's  Military  Activity. — Dorr  Heads  a  Large  Force. — Tries  to  Sei/.e  the 
Reins  of  Power. — Is  Routed  ;  Quits  the  State. — Returns  Again  to  the  Conflict. — Entrenches 
atChepachet;  Retreats. — Tried  for  Treason  and  Imprisoned. — Pardoned  and  Restored. — 
Something  About  "  Barn-Burning,"  or  the  Anti-Rent  Insurrection  in  New  York.  .  .  .  408 

XLVII. 

MUTINY  ON  BOARD  THE  UNITED  STATES  BRIG-OF-WAR  SOMERS,  CAPTAIN  A.  S.  MAC 
KENZIE. — 1842. 

Deep-Laid  Plot  to  Seize  the  Vessel,  Commit  Wholesale  Murder  of  Her  Men,  Raise  the  Black 
Flag,  and  Convert  Her  into  a  Pirate. — All  Prizes  to  be  Plundered.  Burnt,  Their  Crews 
Butchered,  and  Women  and  Girls  Ravished. — Midshipman  Spencer,  Son  of  a  United  States 
Cabinet  Officer,  the  Ringleader. — The  Chief  Conspirators  Hung  at  the  Yard-Arm. — First 
Mutiny  in  the  United  States  Navy. — Spencer's  Hold  Upon  His  Comrades. — Death  the  Pen 
alty  of  Disclosure.— Confidence  Fortunately  Misplaced. — A  Man  of  Honor  Tampered  With. 
— Captain  Mackenzie  Informed  of  the  Plot. — Treats  it  as  Wild  and  Improbable. — Confronts 
and  Questions  Spencer. — Orders  Him  to  be  Ironed. — Plan  Found  in  His  Razor  Case. — 
Alarming  Disaffection  of  the  Crew. — None  of  the  Officers  Implicated. — Close  Investigation 
of  the  Case. — Spencer,  Cromwell,  and  Small,  to  Die. — Their  Fate  Announced  to  Them. — 
Spencer's  Account  of  His  Life. — They  Meet  on  Their  Way  to  be  Hung. — Treatment  of 
Each  Other.— Spencer  Begs  to  Give  the  Last  Signal.— Closing  Scene  of  the  Tragedy.— All 
Hands  Cheer  the  Ship. — Raising  the  Banner  of  the  Cross 415 

XL  VII  I. 

SUDDEN-  APPEARANCE  OF  A  GREAT  AND  FIERY  COMET  IN  THE  SKIES  AT  NOONDAY.— 1843. 

It  Sweeps  Through  the  Heavens,  for  Several  Weeks,  with  a  Luminous  Train  108,000.000 
Miles  in  Length.— Almost  Grazes  the  Sun,  and,  after  Whirling  Around  that  Orb  with  Pro 
digious  Velocity,  Approaches  the  Earth  with  a  Fearful  Momentum.— Its  Mysterious  Disappear 
ance  in  the  Unknown  Realms  and  Depths  of  Space.— Most  Notable  of  all  Comets.— First 
Visible  in  the  Day-time.— Its  Conspicuous  Aspect.— Strange  and  Chreatening  Motion.— Goes 
Twice  Around  the  Sun.— Their  Supposed  Contact.— Becomes  Red  in  Passing. — Recedes 
Straight  to  the  Earth.— Watched  with  Deep  Concern. — The  Magnetic  Needle  Agitated. — 
Wide  Fears  of  a  Collision.— Its  Probable  Result.— Indian  Terror  and  Prediction.— Triumphs 
of  Astronomy.— Diameter  of  the  Comet's  Head.— Measurement  of  Its  Tail. — Stars  Seen 
Through  the  Train.— Appearance  in  the  Equator.— Like  a  Stream  of  Molten  Fire.— Beauti 
ful  Ocean  Reflection.— Double  Sweep  of  the  Tail.— Other  Cometary  Phenomena.  .  .  424 


CONTENTS.  31 

XLIX. 

EXPECTED  DESTRUCTION  OP  THE  WORLD. — 1843. 

Miller's  Exciting  Prediction  of  the  Second  Advent  of  Christ. — The  Speedy  Fulfillment  of  the 
Latter-Day  Bible  Prophecies  Boldly  Declared. — Zealous  Promulgation  of  His  Views. — Scores 
of  Thousands  of  Converts. — Public  Feeling  Intensely  Wrought  Upon. — Preparations  by 
Many  for  the  Coming  Event. — The  Passing  of  the  Time. — Miller's  Apology  and  Defense. — 
— His  Deism  in  Early  Life. — Studies  History  and  Scripture. — Is  Struck  by  the  Prophecies. — 
Reads  Daniel  and  John,  Critically. — Calculates  Their  Time. — "About  1843,"  the  Consumma 
tion. — Basis  of  these  Conclusions. — Reluctantly  Begins  to  Lecture. — Interesting  Incident. — 
His  Labors  and  Enthusiasm. — Three  Thousand  Lectures  in  Ten  Years. — Secret  of  his  Great 
Success. — Approach  of  the  Final  Day. — Cessation  of  Secular  Pursuits. — Encamping  in  the 
Fields,  in  Grive-yards  and  on  Roofs. — Some  Curious  Extravagances. — Rebuked  by  Miller. 
— Repeated  Disappointments. — Misinterpretation  of  Texts. — Miller  as  a  Man  and  Preacher. 
— His  Calm  and  Happy  Death 431 

L. 

AWFUL  EXPLOSION  OF  COMMODORE  STOCKTON'S  GREAT  GUN,  THE  "PEACEMAKER,"  ON 
BOARD  THE  UNITED  STATES  STEAMSHIP  PRINCETON. — 1844. 

The  Secretaries  of  State  and  of  the  Navy,  and  Other  Eminent  Persons,  Instantly  Killed. — 
Miraculous  Escape  of  the  President. — Sudden  Transition  from  the  Height  of  Human  Enjoy 
ment  to  the  Extreme  of  Woe. — Stockton's  High  Enthusiasm. — His  Vast  and  Beautiful  Ship. 
— Her  Model  and  Armament. — Styled  the  Pride  of  the  Navy — Invitations  for  a  Grand  Gala 
Day. — President  Tyler  Attends. — Countless  Dignitaries  on  Board. — Array  of  Female  Beauty. 
— Music,  Toasts,  Wit  and  Wine.— Firing  of  the  Monster  Gun. — Its  Perfect  Success. — "One 
more  Shot!  "  by  Request. — A  Stunning  and  Murderous  Blast. — Bursting  of  the  Gun, — D^ath 
All  Around. — Frightful  Shrieks  and  Groans. — Scattering  of  Mangled  Remains. — Agony  of 
Woman's  Heart. — Standing-Place  of  the  President :  Absent  Just  One  Moment. — The  Dead 
in  Union  Flags. — Funeral  at  the  White  House 439 

LI. 

Two  HUNDRED  YEARS  OF  FREE  POPULAR  EDUCATION. — 1844. 

An  Experiment  in  Behalf  of  the  Highest  Civilization. — Condition  of  the  Country  Previous  to 
such  Efforts. — Early  Scenes  and  Customs. — Public  Law  Invoked  and  Applied — Impulse  Given 
to  the  Work. — Progress  and  Results. — America  in  the  Van. — Most  Enlightened  and  Success 
ful  System  in  the  World.— Female  Education. — Colleges,  Universities,  etc. — A  Very  Modern 
Idea. — Xo  National  System  of  Education. — Undertaken  by  the  Individual  States. — Effect  of 
Wise  Legislation. — State  Vieing  with  State. — School-houses  in  "ye  olden  time."— The  East 
and  the  West. — Wonderful  Changes  in.  Public  Opinion. — Some  Strange  Contrasts. — Archi 
tectural  Splendor  of  the  Present  Day. — Ingenious  Helps  and  Appliances. — Congressional 
Grants  in  Aid  of  the  Cause.— Government  Bureau  at  Washington.— Grand  Aim  and  Scope. 
—Standard  of  Female  Instruction  Raised.— Principles  and  Methods.— The  Higher  Institu 
tions  of  Learning.— Tdpas  and  Plans  at  the  Start,— Founding  of  Harvard,  Yale,  etc.— Then 
and  Now— Nearly  400  Colleges  in  the  U.  S.— Some  8,000,000  Common  School  Pupils,  .  448 

LII. 

DISCOVERY  OF  THE  INHALATION  OF  ETHER  AS  A  PREVENTIVE  OF  PAIN. — 1816. 
Performance  of  Surgical  Operations  Involving  the  Intensest  Torture,  During  the  Happy  Un 
consciousness  of  the  Patient.— Account  of  the  First  Capital  Demonstration  before  a  Crowded 
and  Breathless  Assembly.— Its  Signal  Success.— Thrill  of  Enthusiastic  Joy.— Most  Benefi 
cent  Boon  Ever  Conferred  by  Science  upon  the  Human  Race.— Instinctive  Dread  of  Pain.— 
Fruitless  Search  Hitherto  for  a  Preventive.— Terror  of  the  Probe  and  Knife.— Heroes  Quail 
before  Them.— Case  of  the  Bluff  Old  Admiral.— Discovery  of  the  Long-Sought  Secret.- Sul 
phuric  Ether  the  Prize.— Bliss  During  Amputation.— Honor  Due  to  America.— A  Whole 
World  Elated.— Medical  Men  Exultant.— Curious  Religious  Objections.— Test-Case  in  Sur 
gery.— Startling  and  Romantic  Interest.— Value  in  Public  Hospitals.— War's  Sufferings 


32  CONTENTS. 

Ameliorated. — Various  Effects  While  Inhaling. — Amusing  and  Extraordinary  Cases. — 
"Thocht  the  Deil  Had  a  Grip  o'  Her!" — Odd  Talk  of  an  Innocent  Damsel. — Old  Folks 
Wanting  to  Dance. — Awards  to  the  Discoverers 456 

LIIL 

INVENTION  OF  THAT  WONDROUS  PIECE  OF  MECHANISM,  THE  SEWING  MACHINE. — 1846. 
Romantic  Genius  and  Perseverance  Displayed  in  Its  Production. — Toils  of  the  Inventor  in  His 
Garret. — World-Wide  Introduction  of  the  Device. — Upwards  of  One  Thousand  Patents 
Taken  Out  in  the  United  States. — The  Industrial  Interests  of  the  Country  Affected  to  the 
Amount  of  8500,000,000  Annually. — The  Humble  Inventor  Becomes  a  Millionaire. — The 
Main  Principle  Involved. — Comparison  With  Hand  Sewing. — How  it  was  Suggested. — Lis 
tening  to  Some  Advantage. — History  of  Mr.  Howe's  Efforts. — Ingenuity,  Struggles,  Triumphs. 
— Value  of  a  Friend  in  Need. — A  Machine  at  Last. — Its  Parts,  Capabilities,  etc. — Reception 
by  the  Public. — Doubt  Succeeded  by  Admiration. — Great  Popularity  and  Demand. — Weari 
some  Litigation  With  Rivals. — Interesting  Question  of  Priority. — Decided  in  Howe's  Favor. 
— He  Rises  to  Affluence. — Improvements  by  Others. — Unique  and  Useful  Devices. — Number 
of  Machines  Produced. — Time  and  Labor  Saved. — Effect  Upon  Prices. — New  Avenues  of 
Labor  Opened 464 

LIV. 

SPIRITUAL  KNOCKINGS  AND  TABLE-TIPPINGS. — 1847. 

Familiar  Intercourse  Claimed  to  be  Opened  between  Human  and  Disembodied  Beings. — Al 
leged  Revelations  from  the  Unseen  World. — Singular  and  Humble  Origin,  in  a  Secluded 
New  York  Village,  of  this  Great  Modern  Wonder. —  Its  Development  Among  all  Nations  in 
all  Lands. — Astonishing  and  Inexplicable  Character  of  the  Manifestations. — First  Rappings 
in  Hydesville,  New  York. — Time,  Manner,  Circumstances. — Murdered  Man's  Spirit. — How 
the  Mystery  Was  Solved. — Rappings,  the  Spirit  Language. — Its  Interpretation  Discovered. — 
Two  Young  Girls  the  "Mediums." — Their  Harassed  Experience. — Public  Efforts  to  Sift  the 
Matter. — No  Clue  to  any  Deception. — The  Family  go  to  Rochester. — Knockings  Accompany 
Them. — New  Forms  of  "  Manifestations." — Many  Mediums  Spring  Up. — Things  Strange 
and  Startling. — Universal  Wonder  Excited. — Theories  of  Explanation. — Investigations  and 
Reports. — Views  of  Agassiz,  Herschel,  etc. — Press  and  Pulpit  Discussions. — Different  Opin 
ions  as  to  the  Tendency  of  the  Phenomena. — Thirty  Years'  History 472 

LV. 

VOYAGE  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES  SHIP  JAMESTOWN  WITH  A  CARGO  OF  FOOD  FOR  THE 

STARVING  IN  IRELAND. — 1847. 

Famine,  Pestilence,  Woe  and  Death  Sweep  Frightfully  Over  that  Land.— Appeal  to  the  Sympa 
thy  of  Nations. — The  Tale  of  Horror  Borne  Across  the  Atlantic. — Spontaneous  Generosity 
of  America.— A  Ship  of  War  Converted  into  a  Ship  of  Peace,  and  Laden  with  Free  Gifts  for 
tha  Suffering. — Total  Failure  of  the  Potato  Crop. — A  Universal  Scourge. — Disease  Added  to 
Destitution  — Ghastly  Scenes  on  Every  Side. — Multitudes  Perish  in  the  Streets. — Parliament 
Grants  850,000,000.— The  Message  of  Humanity.— America's  Ready  Bounties.— Use  of  the 
Jamestown  Granted.— Food  Substituted  for  Guns.— Interesting  Bill  of  Lading.— Departure 
from  Boston.— Enthusiastically  Cheered.— Only  Fifteen  Days'  Passage. — Going  up  the  Har 
bor  of  Cork. — Throngs  of  Famished  Spectators. — Tumultuous  Greetings  on  Arrival. — Public 
Welcomes  and  Honors. — A  Tour  of  Inspection.— Indescribable  Horrors.— Distribution  of  the 
Cargo. — The  Mission  a  Great  Success 479 

LVI. 

GENKRAL  SCOTT  IN  THE  HALLS  OF    THE   MONTEZUMAS,  AS   THE   CONQUEROR   OF    MEX 
ICO.— 1817. 

General  Taylor's  Unbroken  Scries  of  Victorious  Battles  from  Palo  Alto  to  Buena  Vista.— 
Flight  of  Santa  Anna  in  the  Dead  of  Midnight.— The  Stars  and  Stripes  Float  Triumphantly 
from  the  Towers  of  the  National  Palace.— First  Foreign  Capital  Ever  Occupied  by  the 


CONTENTS.  33 

United  States  Army. — Peace  on  the  Invaders'  Own  Terms. — Original  Irritation  between  the 
Two  Powers. — Disputed  Points  of  Boundary. — Mexico  Refuses  to  Yield. — General  Taylor 
seat  to  the  Rio  Grande. — A  Speedy  Collision. — Declaration  of  War  by  Congress. — Santa 
Anna  Leads  the  Mexicans. — Battles  of  Palo  Alto  and  Resaca  de  la  Palma. — Raging  Fight 
at  Monterey  ;  Its  Fall. — Santa  Anna's  War-like  Summons. — It  is  Treated  with  Contempt. — 
His  Awful  Defeat  at  Buena  Vista. — Doniphan's  March  of  Five  Thousand  Miles. — Vera 
Cruz,  Cerro  Gordo,  Contreras,  Churubusco,  etc. — Scott's  Order,  "On  to  Mexico!  " — Huzzas 
and  a  Quick-Step. — Terrific  Storming  of  Chapultepec. — Scott  Holds  the  Key  to  Mexico. — 
The  Last  Obstacle  Overcome. — Grand  Entrance  of  the  Victors. — Territorial  Gain  to  the 
United  States 487 

LVIL 

EXPEDITION  TO  THE  RIVER  JORDAN  AND  THE  DEAD  SEA,  BY  LIEUT.  W.  F.  LYNCH. — 1847. 

The  Sacred  River  Successfully  Circumnavigated  and  Surveyed. — Twenty  Days  and  Nights 
upon  the  "  Sea  of  Death." — It  is  Explored,  and  Sounded,  and  its  Mysteries  Solved. — Strange 
Phenomena  and  Unrelieved  Desolation  of  the  Locality. — Important  Results  to  Science. — 
Zeal  in  Geographical  Research. — Interest  in  the  Holy  Land. — American  Inquiry  Aroused. — 
Equipment  of  Lynch's  Expedition. — On  its  Way  to  the  Orient. — Anchoring  Under  Mount 
Carmel. — Passage  Down  the  Jordan. — It  is  Traced  to  its  Source. —  Wild  and  Impressive 
Scenery. — Rose-Colored  Clouds  of  Judea. — Configuration  of  the  Dead  Sea. — Dense,  Buoyant, 
Briny  Waters. — Smarting  of  the  Hands  and  Face. — Salt,  Ashes,  and  Sulphureous  Vapors, 
etc. — Tradition  Among  the  Arabs. — Sad  Fate  of  Former  Explorers. —  Temperature  of  this 
Sea. — Submerged  Plains  at  its  Bottom. — Sheeted  with  Phosphorescent  Foam. — Topography, 
Width  and  Depth.—"  Apples  of  Sodom  "  Described.— The  Pillar  of  Salt,  Lot's  Wife.  .  494 

LVIII. 

DISCOVERY  OF  GOLD  AT  SUTTER'S  MILL,  CALIFORNIA. — 1848. 

Widely-Extended  and  Inexhaustible  Deposits  of  the  Precious  Metal. — The  News  Spreads  Like 
Wild-Fire  to  the  Four  Quarters  of  the  Globe. — Overwhelming  Tide  of  Emigration  from  all 
Countries. — Nucleus  of  a  Great  Empire  on  the  Pacific. — California  Becomes  the  El  Dorado 
of  the  World  and  the  Golden  Commonwealth  of  the  American  Union. — First  Practical  Dis 
covery  of  Gold. — On  John  A.  Sutter's  Land. — Found  by  J.  W.  Marshall. — Simple  Accident 
That  Led  to  It. — Marshall's  Wild  Excitement. — Shows  Sutter  the  Golden  Grains. — A  Dra 
matic  Interview. — The  Discovery  Kept  Secret. — How  it  was  Disclosed. — A  Real  Wonder  of 
the  Age.— Trials  of  the  Early  Emigrants.— Their  Bones  Whiten  the  Soil.— All  Professions 
at  the  Mines. — Impetus  Given  to  Commerce. — Life  Among  the  Diggers. — Disordered  State 
of  Society. — Crimes,  Outrages,  Conflagrations. — Scarcity  :  Fabulous  Prices. — Mining  by 
Machinery. — Order  and  Stability  Reached. — Population  in  1857,  600,000. — Gold  in  Ten 
Years,  $600,000,000 500 

LIX. 

ASTOR  PLACE  OPERA-HOUSE  RIOTS,  NEW  YORK.— 1849. 

Terrible  Culmination  of  the  Feud  between  Macready,  the  English  Star  Actor,  and  Forrest,  the 
Great  American  Tragedian. — Macready  Commences  to  Perform,  but  is  Violently  Driven 
from  the  Stage.— A  Mob  of  20,000  Men  Surrounds  the  Theater,  and  Thunders  at  its  Doors. 
—Attempt  to  Fire  and  Destroy  the  House.— Charge  of  the  Military.— Lamentable  Loss  of 
Life.— Fame  of  these  Great  Actors.— Their  Former  Mutual  Friendship.— Macready's  Tour 
in  this  Country.— Forrest  Performs  in  Europe.— Professional  Jealousies  Aroused.— Open 
Rupture  at  Last.— Macready  Again  in  America.— Engages  to  Play  in  New  York.— Opposi 
tion  to  Him  There.— Appears  on  the  Stage,  May  Eighth.— Fierce  Tumult  in  the  House.— 
Groans,  Hisses,  Insults.— He  Stands  Undismayed.— Flight  of  the  Audience.— Re-appearance, 
May  Tenth.— The  House  Filled  to  the  Dome.— Riotous  Yells  and  Cries.—"  Down  with  the 
British  Hog!  "—Heroic  Demeanor  on  the  Stage.— Threats  of  the  Raging  Mob.— Its  Bloody 

Dispersion.— Macready  Leaves  the  Country 508 

3 


34  CONTENTS. 

LX. 

AWFUL  VISITATIONS  OF  THE  "ANGEL  OF  DKATH." — 1849. 

Yellow  Fever  and  Cholera  Epidemics  at  Different  Periods.— Frightful  Mortality  and  Panic  in 
1849.— Business  Abandoned,  Churches  Closed,  Streets  Barricaded,  Cities  Deserted.— Proc 
lamation  by  the  President  of  the  United  States. — The  Virtues,  Passions,  and  Vices  of  Hu 
man  Nature  Strikingly  Illustrated. — Tens  of  Thousands  Swept  at  Once  from  the  Face  of  the 
Earth.— Various  Eras  of  American  Epidemics.— Wide  and  Ghastly  Ravages.— Self-Preserva 
tion  the  First  Law.— Social  Intercourse  Suspended.— Ties  of  Affection  Sundered.— Parents 
Forsake  Children.— Husbands  Flee  from  Wives. — Rich  Men  Buried  like  Paupers.— Money 
and  Rank  Unavailing. — Rumble  of  the  Dead-Carts. — Activity  in  the  Grave-yards. — They 
Look  as  if  Plowed  Up. — Women  in  Childbirth  Helpless. — Their  Screams  for  Succor. — Care 
of  a  Lunatic  Patient. — The  Tender  Passion  Still  Alive.— Courageous  Marriages. — Death  in 
the  Bridal  Chamber.— Anecdotes  of  the  Clergy. — Crime,  Filth,  and  Disease. — Quacks  and 
Nostrums  Rife.— The  Celebrated  "  Thieves'  Vinegar." 515 

LXI. 

MURDER  OF  DR.  GEORGE  PARKMAN,  A  NOTED  MILLIONAIRE  OF  BOSTON,  BY  PROF.  JOHN 
W.  WEBSTER,  OF  HARVARD  COLLEGE. — 1819. 

High  Social  Position  of  the  Parties. — Instantaneous  Outburst  of  Surprise,  Alarm,  and  Terror, 
in  the  Community,  on  the  Discovery  of  the  Deed. — Remarkable  Chain  of  Circumstances 
Leading  to  the  Murderer's  Detection. — Solemn  and  Exciting  Trial. — Account  of  the  Mortal 
Blow  and  Disposal  of  the  Remains. — Parkman's  Wealth  and  Fame. — Mysterious  Disappear 
ance,  November  Twenty-third. — Appointment  with  Professor  Webster  that  Day. — Their  Un 
happy  Pecuniary  Relations. — Search  for  the  Missing  Millionaire. — Webster's  Call  on  Park 
man's  Brother. — Explains  the  Interview  of  November  Twenty-third. — No  Trace  of  Parkman 
After  that  Date. — The  Medical  College  Explored. — Scene  in  Webster's  Rooms. — The  Tea- 
Chest,  Vault,  and  Furnace. — Human  Remains  Found  There. — Identified  as  Doctor  Park- 
man's. — Arrest  of  Webster  at  Night. — Attempt  at  Suicide  on  the  Spot. — Behavior  iu  Court. 
— His  Atrocious  Guilt  Proved. — Rendering  the  Verdict. — He  Boldly  Addresses  tho  Jury. 
— Asserts  his  Entire  Innocence. — Final  Confession  of  the  Crime. — Hung  Near  the  Spot 
of  his  Birth. — The  Similar  and  Tragical  Case  of  John  C.  Colt,  Murderer  of  Samuel 
Adams 523 

LXII. 
THE  UNITED  STATES  GRINNELL  EXPEDITIONS  OF  1850  AND  1853,  TO  THE  ARCTIC 

SK  AS.— 1850. 

Search  for  Sir  John  Franklin,  the  Lost  Navigator. — Traces  of  His  Melancholy  and  Mysterious 
Fate. — Dr.  Kane's  Discovery  of  an  Open  Polar  Sea,  Three  Thousand  Square  Miles  in  Area. — 
Tho  "  Great  Glacier,"  a  Lofty  and  Dazzling  Ice-Wall  of  Boundless  Dimensions. — The  "  Stars 
and  Stripes"  Carried  Farther  North  than  Any  Other  Flag.— Origin  of  this  Undertaking. — 
Franklin's  Bold  Enterprise. — No  Tidings  of  Him  for  Years. — Vessels  Sent  in  Search. — Lady 
Franklin's  Warm  Appeal. — Mr.  Grinnell's  Noble  Response. — Fits  Out  Dellaven's  Expedi 
tion. — Sailing  of  the  Advance  and  Rescue.— Franklin's  Winter  Quarters  Found.— Dellaven 
Imbedded  in  Ice. — Eighty  Days  Polar  Darkness.— Fruitless  Efforts  ;  Return  Home. — Renewed 
Search  by  Dr.  Kane. — At  the  Extreme  Solitary  North. — Its  Terror  and  Sublimity. — Mer 
cury  and  Whiskey  Freeze  Solid.— No  Sunlight  for  Five  Months.— A  Vast  Crystal  Bridge. — 
It  Connects  Two  Continents. — Kane  Ice-Bound  ;  Awful  Perils.— One  Thousand  Three  Hun 
dred  Miles  Traveled  in  Sledges.— Final  Escape ;  Arrival  Home. — Dr.  Hayes's  Heroic  Ad 
ventures 533 

LXTIL 

BRILLIANT  MUSICAL  TOUR  OF  JENNY  LIND,  THE  "SWEDISH  NIGHTINGALE."— 1850. 
This  Queen  of  Song  Comes  under  the  Auspices  of  Mr.  Barnum. — Twenty  Thousand  Persons 
Welcome  Her  Arrival.— Transcendent  Beauty  and  Power  of  Her  Voice. — A  Whole  Continent 
Enraptured  with  Her  Enchanting  Melodies.— Pleasant  Exhilaration  of  Feeling  Throughout 


CONTENTS.  35 

the  Land  by  the  Presence  of  the  Fair  Nightingale. — Honors  from  Webster,  Clay,  and  Other 
Dignitaries. — Her  Praises  Fill  the  Wide  World. — The  Vocal  Prodigy  of  the  Age. — An  Opera, 
the  "  Daughter  of  the  Regiment." — Barnum's  Happy  Conception. — Proposes  to  Her  this 
American  Tour. — His  Generous  Terms  Accepted. — She  Reaches  New  York.— Sunny  and  Joy 
ous  Outburst. — A  Real  "  Jenny-Lind  "  Era. — First  Concert  at  Castle  Garden. — Tempest  of 
Acclamation. — Encores,  Showers  of  Bouquets. —  Public  Expectation  Exceeded. — .Jenny's  Com 
plete  Triumph. — All  the  Receipts  Given  to  Charity. — Equal  Enthusiasm  Everywhere. — Beau 
tiful  Incidents. — She  is  a  Guest  at  the  White  House. — Henry  Clay  at  Her  Concert. — Web 
ster  and  the  Nightingale. — A  Scene  "  Not  Down  on  the  Bills." — Ninety-five  Concerts  Yield 
8700,000 541 

LXIV. 

REIGN  OF  THE  VIGILANCE  COMMITTEE  IN  CALIFORNIA. — 1851. 

Revolution  in  the  Administration  of  Justice. — Powerlessness  and  Indifference  of  the  Regular 
Authorities. — Robbery,  Arson,  and  Murder,  Alarmingly  Prevalent. — The  Committee's  Secret 
Chamber  of  Judgment. — Sudden  Seizure  and  Trial  of  Noted  Criminals. — Solemn  Tolling  of 
the  Signal  Bell. — Swift  and  Terrible  Executions. — Renovation  of  Society. — Swarming  of 
Desperate  Felons. — England's  Penal  Colonies  Emptied. — Organized  Society  of  "  Hounds." — 
A  Band  of  Cut-throats. — Society  at  Their  Mercy. — Harvests  Reaped  by  Them. — Corrupt 
Courts  and  Officers. — The  Vigilance  Committee  Formed. — Prompt,  Resolute,  Powerful. — The 
Criminals  Taken  Unawares. — Instant  Summons  to  Death. — A  Gallows  at  Midnight. — Ex 
traordinary  Horrors. — Confessions  by  the  Victims. — Astounding  Revelations. — Magistrates 
Implicated. — Warnings  by  the  Committee. — A  Double  Execution. — Thousands  of  Spectators. 
— Wild  Shouts  of  Approval. — The  Lawless  Classes  Terrified. — The  Results  of  the  Move 
ment 550 

LXV. 

VICTORIOUS  RACE  OF   THE  YACHT   "  AMERICA,"  IN  THE  GREAT  INTERNATIONAL 

REGATTA. — 1851. 

She  Distances,  by  Nearly  Eight  Miles,  the  Whole  Fleet  of  Swift  and  Splendid  Competitors, 
and  Wins  "  the  Cup  of  all  Nations." — Grandest  and  Most  Exciting  Spectacle  of  the  Kind 
Ever  Known. — Queen  Victoria  Witnesses  the  Match. — Universal  Astonishment  at  the  Result. 
— Admiration  Excited  by  the  "  America's  "  Beautiful  Model  and  Ingenious  Rig. — Scenes  at 
the  "  World's  Exhibition  "  at  London. — Grand  Finale  Yet  to  Come  Off. — Championship  of 
the  Sea. — England  Sensitive  on  this  Point. — Her  Motto,  "  Rule  Britannia  !  " — George  Steers 
Builds  the  America. — Commodore  Stevens  Takes  Her  to  England. — His  Challenge  to  all 
Countries. — An  International  Prize  Race. — Eighteen  Yachts  Entered. — The  Scene  on  Wave 
and  Shore. — All  Sails  Set :  The  Signal. — Every  Eye  on  "  the  Yankee." — Her  Leisurely  Move 
ments. — Allows  Herself  to  be  Distanced. — Her  Quality  Soon  Shown. — No  "Bellying"  of 
Canvas.— Amazing  Increase  of  Speed.— All  Rivals  Passed,  One  by  One. — They  Return  in 
Despair. — Great  Odds  for  the  America. — Is  Visited  by  Queen  Victoria 558 

LXVI. 

FRIGHTFUL  CATASTROPHE  IN  A  NEW  YORK  FIVE-STORY  PUBLIC  SCHOOL-HOUSE  CONTAIN 
ING  EIGHTEEN  HUNDRED  PUPILS. — 1851. 

Panic  Caused  by  a  Call  for  "  Water."— Furious  Rush  of  the  Little  Ones  Throughout  the  Vast 
Building,  to  Escape  the  Supposed  Fire. — The  Stair  Railing  Breaks,  and  They  are  Precipitated 
to  the  Bottom,  in  Helpless  Agony.— Nearly  Fifty  Children,  in  Their  Beauty  and  Innocence 
Suffocated  to  Death.— Hundreds  of  Families  in  Mourning.— Slight  Source  of  all  this  Horror. 
— Suddeu  Illness  of  a  Teacher.— Cries  of  "  Help !  "  for  Her.— Heard  in  the  Other  Rooms. — 
Fatal  Misapprehension.— Instant  and  Awful  Fright. — Vain  Attempts  to  Escape. — They  all 
Pour  Forth  at  Once.— The  Street-Door  Locked !— Bewildered  Crowds.— Their  Headlong 
Descent.— A  Pile  of  Bodies  Fourteen  Feet  Square.— Their  Sighs  and  Writhings.— Arrival  of 
the  Firemen.— Entrance  Effected  by  Them.— Thousands  Waiting  Outside.— Indescribable 
Excitement.— Anguish  of  Parents.— Rescuing  the  Sufferers.— Scenes  Among  the  Little  Ones. 
—  Sweet  and  Tender  Devotion. — Burial  of  the  Innocents 567 


36  CONTENTS. 

LXVII. 

APPEARANCE  OF  THE  MARINE  MONSTER  KNOWN  AS  THE  SEA-SERPENT,  ALONG  THE  AT 
LANTIC  COAST. — 1851. 

Statements  of  Numerous  Eye- Witnesses,  as  to  Its  Form,  Size,  Color,  and  Movements. — Esti 
mated  Length,  One  Hundred  Feet. — Its  Body  Cylindrical  in  Shape,  and  of  the  Diameter  of 
a  Large  Cask. — Effect  of  Shot  upon  the  Animal. — Astonishing  Rapidity  of  Its  Course. — 
Observers  Struck  with  Wonder  and  Awe  at  Such  a  Sight. — The  Monarch  of  the  Deep. — 
Opinions  of  Scientific  Men. — Existence  of  the  Animal  Proved. — Evidence  on  this  Point. 
— Reliability  of  the  Witnesses. — Their  Various  Descriptions. — Concurrence  of  Testimony. — 
No  Similar  Sea  Animal. —  Seen  in  Different  Localities. — Observed  from  Sea  and  Shore. — 
Frequents  New  England. — Nearer  Views  Obtained  cf  Him.— Clear  Weather,  Smooth  Seas. 
— Drawings  Made  on  the  Spot. — His  Gigantic  Dimensions. — Linnapan  Society's  Report. — 
Supposed  to  be  the  "  Leviathan.'* — His  Steady  and  Onward  Pace. — A  Mile  in  Three  Min 
utes. — Attitude  of  the  Body. — Elevation  of  the  Head. — Dark  Brown  the  Chief  Color.  .  575 

L  XVIII. 

RECEPTION  OF  GOVERNOR  KOSSUTII,  THE  GREAT  HUNGARIAN  EXILE,  AS  THE  INVITED 

GUEST  OF  THE  NATION. — 1851. 

Splendid  Military  Pageant  in  New  York,  on  His  Arrival. — Welcomed  and  Banqueted  by  Presi 
dent  Fillmore. — Received  with  Distinguished  Official  Honors  on  the  Floor  of  Congress. — 
He  Eloquently  Pleads  His  Country's  Cause  in  All  Parts  of  the  Land. — Processions,  Congratu 
latory  Addresses,  Acclamations,  Etc. — A  True-Hearted  Patriot. — What  Hungary  Fought 
For. —  Austrian  Despotism  Resisted. — Independence  Demanded.  —  Kossuth  the  Leading 
Champion. — Armies  in  the  Field. — Successes  and  Reverses. — Russia's  Sword  for  Austria. — 
Kossuth's  Flight  to  Turkey. — Long  an  Exile  There. — America  Interposes  for  Him. — Offers 
a  Conveyance  to  the  United  States. — The  Nation's  Courtesy  Accepted. — Frigate  Mississippi 
Sent. — Kossuth  and  Suite  on  Board. — His  Landing  at  New  York. — Magnificent  Preparations 
for  Him. — Invited  to  Washington. — Speech  before  Congress. — An  Unprecedented  Distinc 
tion. — His  Untiring  Labors. — Greatest  Orator  of  the  Day 583 

LXIX. 

NAVAL  EXPEDITION  TO  JAPAN,  UNDER  COMMODORE  M.  C.  PERRY. — 1S52. 
Negotiations  to  be  Opened  for  Unsealing  the  Ports  of  that  Empire  to  America.— Letter  of 
Friendship  from  the  President  of  the  United  States  to  the  Emperor. — Distinguished  Favor 
Shown  the  Representatives  of  the  Great  Republic. — Ceremonies,  Entertainments,  and  Diplo 
matic  Conferences. — Treaty  of  Peace,  Amity,  and  Commercial  Intercourse  Concluded. — 
Former  Japanese  Isolation  Policy. — Exclusive  Privileges  to  the  Dutch. — Effects  of  this  Re 
striction. —  European  Efforts  to  Change  It. —  Mission  of  Commodore  Biddle. — Seeks  the 
Release  of  United  States  Sailors. — Ordered  to  Depart  Forthwith. — Firm  Conduct  of  Captain 
Glynn. — Contempt  for  Japanese  Etiquette. — Champagne  as  a  Mediator. — Commodore  Perry's 
Fine  Fleet. — The  Letter  in  a  Golden  Box. — Its  Presentation  to  the  Emperor. — Commissioners 
Meet  Commodore  Perry.— Their  Attire,  Manners,  Etc.— The  Conference  in  Session.— Friend 
liness  of  the  Japanese.— Civilities  and  Festivals.— Reception  on  the  Flag-Ship.— Substance 
of  the  Treaty.— A  Talk  with  the  Emperor.— More  Privileges  Extended.  .  .  *.  .  .  592 

LXX. 

EXHIBITION  OF  THE  INDUSTRY  OF  ALL  NATIONS,  IN  NEW  YORK.— 1853. 
Construction  of  the  Crystal  Palace,  a  Colossal  Building  of  Glass  and  Iron.— Four  Acres  of 
Surface  Covered  with  the  Treasures  of  Art,  Science  and  Mechanism,  from  Every  Land.— 
Inauguration  of  the  Enterprise  by  President,  Pierce.— Five  Thousand  Contributors.— Splen 
dor  of  the  Palace  of  Industry  by  Day  ;  Its  Gorgeous  Illumination  at  Night.— Eclat  of  the 
Great  London  Fair.— Emulation  Stimulated  Abroad.— An  American  Exhibition  Proposed.— 
Popularity  of  the  Idea.— Plan  for  a  Building  Accepted.— Its  Style,  Size,  and  Decorations.— 
Admirable  Adaptation  of  the  Structure.— Superiority  to  the  London  Palace.— Rapid  Prog 
ress  of  the  Enterprise.— Interest  of  Foreign  Countries  Enlisted.— Programme  of  Manage- 


CONTENTS.  37 

ment. — Brilliant  Ceremony  at  the  Opening. — Celebrities  Present :  Speeches  Made. — Grand 
Hallelujah  Chorus  Sung. — Constant  Tide  of  Visitors. —  Beauty,  Utility,  Amusement. — At 
tractions  from  Abroad. — Contributions  by  Monarchs. — Victoria's  Beautiful  Offering. — The 
Grand  Industries  of  Civilization. — Lesson  Taught  by  Such  a  Display. — Luster  Reflected  on 
America GOO 

LXXI. 

Loss  OF  THE  SPLEXDID  COLLIXS  STEAMSHIP  ARCTIC,  OF  NEW  YORK,  BY  COLLISION  WITH 

THE  IROX  STEAMER  VESTA. — 185-4. 

Occurrence  of  the  Disaster  in  Mid-Ocean,  at  Noonday,  in  a  Dense  Fog. — Sinking  of  the  Noble 
Ship  Stern  Foremost.  —  Hundreds  of  Souls  Engulfed  in  a  Watery  Grave. — Experiences 
Crowded  Into  that  Awful  Hour. — The  Wail  of  Agony  and  Despair  from  the  Fated  Throng. 
— Her  Non- Arrival ;  Painful  Suspense. — The  Dreadful  News  at  Last. —  Shock  to  the  Public 
Mind. — Strong  Build  of  the  Arctic. — Prestige  of  the  Collins  Line. — A  Casualty  Undreamed 
Of. — Surging  Crowd  in  Wall  Street. — Names  of  Lost  and  Saved  Read. — Hope,  Joy,  Grief, 
Anguish. — The  Sad  Tale  on  all  Lips. — Captain  Luce  in  the  Hour  of  Woe. — Manliness  of 
His  First  Order. — Ship  Deserted  by  the  Crew. — "Every  Man  for  Himself." — A  Raft  Con 
structed,  but  in  Vain. — Courage  of  the  Women. — Not  One  of  their  Sex  Saved. — Instances 
of  Cool  Bravery. — An  Engineer's  Heroic  Fidelity. — £30,000  for  a  Chance  in  a  Boat. — Pleas 
ure  Tourists  on  Board. — All  of  Mr.  Collius's  Family  Lost 608 

LXXII. 

ASSAULT  ox  THE  Hox.  CHARLES  SUMXER,  BY  Hox.  PRESTOX  S.  BROOKS. — 1856. 
Twenty  Sudden  and  Terrible  Blows,  with  a  Solid  Gutta  Percha  Cane,  Dealt  upon  Mr.  Sum- 
ner's  Bare  Head. — He  Staggers  and  Falls,  Senseless,  Gashed,  and  Bleeding. — Sumner's  Great 
Kansas  Speech  for  Free  Soil  and  Free  Labor. — Speech  by  Senator  Butler,  of  South  Carolina. 
— Mr.  Sumner's  Scorching  Reply. — Soutli  Carolinians  Offended. — An  Assault  Determined 
On. — Mr.  Brooks  Their  Champion. — Two  Days'  WatcL  .for  His  Victim. — Finds  Him  Alone  at 
His  Desk. — Approaches  Unobserved. — A  Quick  and  Deadly  Blow. — Mr.  Sumner  is  Instantly 
Stunned. — His  Ineffectual  Defense. — Brooks's  Accomplices  at  Hand. — Their  Advantage  over 
Sumuer. —  Storm  of  Public  Indignation. — Action  Taken  by  Congress. — Reign  of  Terror  at 
the  Capital. — Mr.  Sumner's  Three  Years'  Illness. — Recovery. — Illustrious  Career. — Death  of 
Brooks  and  His  Allies. — Time's  Retributions 616 

LXXIII. 

FOUXDERIXG  OF  THE  STEAMER  CfiXTRAL  AMERICA,  IN  A  GALE,  OFF  CAPE  HATTERAS. — 1857. 

More  than  Four  Hundred  Lives  Lost,  and  Two  Million  Dollars  in  Treasure. — Fury  and  Terror 
of  the  Tempest. — The  Staunch  and  Noble  Vessel  Springs  a  Leak. — Successive  Great  and 
Terrible  Waves  Break  Over  and  Drag  Her  Under,  in  the  Night. — The  Tale  of  Peril,  Suffer 
ing,  Despair,  Parting,  and  Death. — Unparalleled  Nature  of  this  Disaster. — Hundreds  of 
Homes  Desolated. — Gloom  of  the  Public  Mind. — The  Financial  Panic  Aggravated. — Rise  of 
the  Fatal  Gale. — Hard  Labor  of  the  Steamer. — A  Leak  Caused  by  the  Strain. — Incessant 
Working  at  the  Pumps. — Four  Anxious  Days. — Approach  of  the  Brig  Marine. — Women  and 
Children  Rescued. — Perils  of  the  Life-Boat. — Terrible  Height  of  the  Sea. — Han-owing  Ex 
periences. — The  Two  Little  Babes. — Gradual  Filling  of  the  Ship. — Three  Plunges,  and  She 
Sinks. — Captain  Herndon  on  the  Wheel-House. — His  Sad  but  Heroic  End. — A  Night  on  the 
Waves. — Dead  and  Living  Float  Together. — Narratives  of  the  Survivors 626 


LXXIV. 

TERRIBLE  CRISIS  IN  THE  BUSINESS  AND  FINANCIAL  WORLD. — 1857. 

Known  as  "the  Great  Panic."— A  Sudden,  Universal  Crash,  in  the  Height  of  Prosperity. — 
Caused  by  Wild  Speculations  and  Enormous  Debt. — Suspension  of  Banks  all  Over  the  Coun 
try.— Failure  of  the  Oldest  and  Wealthiest  Houses.— Fortunes  Swept  Away  in  a  Day.— Pros 
tration  of  Every  Branch  of  Industry. — Prolonged  Embarrassment,  Distrust,  and  Suffering. — 


38  CONTENTS. 

The  Panic  of  1837  in  Comparison. — Extravagance  and  High  Prices. — Chimerical  Railroad 
Schemes. — Mania  for  Land  Investments. — Reckless  Stock  Gambling. — Western  Paper  Cities. 
— Fabulous  Prices  for  "  Lots." — Money  Absorbed  in  this  Way. — Bursting  of  the  Bubble. — 
The  First  Great  Blow. — A  Bomb  in  Money  Circles. — Wide-Spread  Shock  and  Terror. 
— Fierce  Crowds  at  the  Banks. — A  Run  Upon  Them  for  Specie. — They  "  Go  to  the  Wall."- 
Savings  Bank  Excitement. —  Rare  Doings  at  the  Counters. — Wit,  Mirth,  Despair,  and  Ruin. 
— Forty  Thousand  Persons  in  Wall  Street. — Factories,  Foundries,  etc.,  Stopped. — Business 
Credit  Destroyed.— Root  of  the  Whole  Difficulty 035 

LXXV. 

THE  "  GREAT  AWAKENING  "  IN  THE  RELIGIOUS  WORLD,  AND  THE  POPULAR  MOVEMENT 
(IN  1875-6)  UNDER  MESSRS.  MOODY  AND  SANKEY. — 1857. 

Like  a  Mighty  Rushing  Wind,  it  Sweeps  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific. — Crowded  Prayer- 
Meetings  Held  Daily  in  Every  City  and  Town,  from  the  Granite  Hills  of  the  North  to  thy 
Rolling  Prairies  of  the  West  and  the  Golden  Slopes  of  California. — Large  Accessions,  from 
all  Classes,  to  the  Churches  of  Every  Name  and  Denomination. — The  "American  Pentecost." 
— Early  American  Revivals. — Dr.  Franklin  and  Mr.  Whiteiield. — The  Revival  of  1857  Spon 
taneous. — No  Leaders  or  Organizers. — Its  Immediate  Cause. — Universal  Ruin  of  Commerce. 
— Anxiety  for  Higher  Interests. — All  Days  of  the  Week  Alike. — Business  Men  in  the  Work. 
—Telegraphing  Religious  Tidings. — New  York  a  Center  of  Influence. — Fulton  Street  Prayer- 
Meeting. — Scenes  in  Burton's  Theater. — New  Themes  and  Actors. — Countless  Requests  for 
Prayers. — A  Wonderful  Book. — Striking  Moral  Results. — Men  of  Violence  Reformed. — 
Crime  and  Suicide  Prevented. — Infidels,  Gamblers,  Pugilists. — Jessie  Fremont's  Gold  Ring. 
— "Awful  "  Gardner's  Case 014 


LXXVI. 

UNRIVALED  PERFORMANCES  BY  PAUL  MORPHY,  THE  AMERICAN  CHESS  CHAMPION. — 1858. 

His  Extreme  Youth,  Marvelous  Gifts  and  Genius,  and  Astonishing  Trumphs. — The  Most 
Renowned  Players  in  America  and  Europe  Vanquished  by  Him. — His  Wonderful  Victories 
in  Blindfold  Games  with  the  Veteran  Masters  of  Chess. — Morphy's  Bust  Crowned  with 
Laurel  in  Paris. — Honors  and  Testimonials  at  Home. — Morphy's  Personal  History. — Early 
Aptness  for  Chess. — Skill  When  Twelve  Years  Old. — Introduction  to  the  Public. — At  tho 
National  Chess  Congress. — Great  Champions  There. — Morphy  Takes  the  First  Prize. — Wins 
Eighty-One  out  of  Eighty-Four  Games. — Professional  Visit  Abroad. — Challenges  the  Chess 
Celebrities. — His  Boyish  Appearance. — Modesty  and  Great  Memory. — Aspect  When  at  Play. 
— His  Brilliant  Combinations. — Feats  Performed  in  Paris. — Long  and  Profound  Games. — 
Great  Match  Against  Eight. — Unparalleled  Spectacle. — Victor  Over  Every  Rival. — Without 
a  Peer  in  the  World. — Banquets  to  Him  in  Europe. — America  Proud  of  Her  Son.  .  .  057 

LXXVII. 
BURNING  OF  THE  STEAMSHIP  AUSTRIA,  ON  HER  WAY  FROM  HAMBURG  TO  NEW 

YORK.— 1858. 

She  Takes  Fire  on  the  Eleventh  Day,  from  Combustion  of  the  Hot  Tar  Used  in  Fumigation.— 
Three  Decks  Instantly  in  a  Blaze.— Inability  to  Stop  the  Engines.— The  Ship  Continues  on  Her 
Course  in  Furious  Flames.— Torture  and  Death  in  Every  Form.— Nearly  Five  Hundred  Men, 
Women,  and  Children  Lost.— A  Hot  Chain  in  the  Bucket  of  Tar.— Sudden  and  Singular  Ig 
nition.— Rapid  Headway  of  the  Flames.— They  Leap  up  the  Shrouds.— Powerlessness  of  the 
Officers.— The  Captain  Panic-Stricken.— Frantic  Conduct  of  Passengers.— Swamping  of  the 
Boats.— Children  Trodden  Under  Foot.— Writhing  in  the  Heat.— Shrieks  and  Cries.— Being 
Roasted  Alive.— Only  One  Boat  Afloat.— Jumping  into  the  Waves.— Last  Embrace  of  Lovers. 
—Adieus  of  Husbands  and  Wives.— Seven  Brothers  and  Sisters.— Struggles  of  the  Firemen. 
-A  Living  Wall  of  Fire.— Fate  of  the  Women.— Father  and  Son.—"  A  Sail !  "—Rescue  of  a 
Few 664 


CONTENTS.  39 

LXXV1II. 

POLITICAL  DEBATE  BETWEEN  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN*  AND  STEPHEN  A.  DOUGLAS,  IN  ILLI 
NOIS. — 1858. 

Cause  of  this  Remarkable  Oratorical  Contest. — Intense  Interest  in  All  Parts  of  the  Land-The 
Heart  of  every  American  Citizen  Enlisted  in  the  Momentous  Jssue  Involved.— Eminent 
Character  of  the  Combatants. — Their  Extraordinary  Ability  and  Eloquence  Universally  Ac 
knowledged. — The  Discussions  Attended  by  Friends  and  Foes. — Victory,  Defeat,  Life  and 
D^ath. — Condition  of  the  New  Territories. — Form  of  Constitution  to  be  Decided. — Domestic 
Institutions:  Slavery. — Mr.  Douglas  Advocates  "Popular  Sovereignty."— "  Prohibition " 
Urged  by  Mr.  Lincoln. — National  Importance  of  the  Question. — The  Public  Mind  Divided. — 
Joint  Debates  Proposed. — Agreement  between  the  two  Leaders.—  Personal  Appearance  and 
Style. — Plans,  Places,  Scenes. — Theories  and  Arguments  Advanced.— Skill  and  Adroitness  of 
the  Disputants. — Immense  Concourses. — Result  Impartially  Stated. — Mr.  Douglas  Re-elected 
Senator. — Mr.  Lincoln  Nominated  for  President. — His  Election  to  that  Office.— Douglas' 
Magnanimity. — The  Olive  Branch. — Shoulder  to  Shoulder  as  Unionists. — Sudden  Decease  of 
the  Great  Senator 672 

LXXIX. 

THIRTY  THOUSAND  MILES  OF  RAILWAY  i.v  THIRTY  YEARS,  AND  EIGHTY  THOUSAND  IN 

HALF  A  CENTURY. — 1859. 

Curious  Chronicles  Relating  to  the  Introduction  of  Improved  Means  of  Transit. — The  Old  and 
the  New. — Development  and  Progress. — Numerous  and  Important  Advantages. — Great  Sav 
ing  of  Time  and  Expense. — Initiatory  Undertakings  in  the  United  States. — First  American 
Railway  with  Steam  as  the  Locomotive  Power. — Small  Beginnings  :  Great  Results. — Amaz 
ing  Growth  and  Expansion  in  all  Directions — Social  and  Business  Changes. — Infancy  of 
Mechanism  in  this  Line. — Pioneer  Coach  and  Locomotive. — Successive  Steps  of  Advance 
ment. — Usual  Channels  of  Trade  Abandoned. — Power  of  Capital  Demonstrated. — Distant 
Sections  and  Interests  Equalized. — Stimulus  to  Industry. — VastxConstructive  Works  Involved. 
— U.  S.  Enterprise  not  Behindhand.  "Breaking  the  Ground." — Less  than  20  Miles  in  1829. 
— Some  30,000  Miles  in  1859. — Constant  and  Rapid  Increase. — Inventive  Genius  Displayed. — 
"Improvements"  by  the  Thousands. — Steel  Rails  Substituted  lor  lion. — Luxury  on  Wheels. 
— Palace  and  Sleeping  Cars. — Tremendous  Speed  Attained. — American  and  Foreign  Lines. — 
Railways  16,000  Feet  Above  the  Sea G79 

LXXX. 

PETROLEUM  EXCITEMENT  IN  PENNSYLVANIA. — 1859. 

Discoveries  of  Prodigious  Quantities  of  Illuminating  Oil  in  the  Depths  of  the  Earth. — Boring 
of  Innumerable  Wells. — Fabulous  Prices  Paid  For  Lands. — Poor  Farmers  Become  Million 
aires. — The  Supply  of  Oil  Exceeds  the  Wants  of  the  Whole  Country. — Immense  Exporta- 
tions  of  the  Article. — Vast  Source  of  National  Wealth  and  Industry. — Revolution  in  Artifi 
cial  Light.— Ancient  Knowledge  of  this  Oil.— Floating  on  Ponds  and  Creeks.— Its  Collection 
and  Use. — Native  Sources:  Origin. — Locality  of  the  Springs. — Great  Value  of  the  Oil.— 
First  Attempt  at  Boring. — Plans  For  Sinking  Wells. — Their  Exhaustless  Yield.— Intense 
Excitement  Prevails. — Eager  Crowds  at  the  Oil  Region. — Buying  and  Leasing  Lands. — En 
terprise  of  the  Pioneers^— Sudden  Fortunes  Made. — Other  Side  of  the  Picture. — Towns  and 
Cities  Built. — Fire :  Awful  Scenes  and  Losses.-  Bringing  the  Oil  into  Market. — Its  Cheap 
ness  and  Excellence. — Universal  Introduction. — Valuable  for  Various  Purposes.  .  .  .  687 

LXXXI. 

FATAL  DUEL  BETWEEN  HON.  D.  C.  BRODERICK,  AND  HON.  D.  S.  TERRY.— 1859. 
Scene  of  the  Meeting  near  San  Francisco. — Details  of  the  Barbarous  Encounter. — Broderick 
Falls  Mortally  Wounded,  by  His  Adversary.— He  Expires  in  Two  Days.— Flight  of  Terry. — 
Society  Shocked  at  the  Event.— Parallel  Case  of  Messrs.  Graves  and  Cillcy.— Politics  and 
Dueling  in  America.— Broderick's  Alleged  Offense.— Terry's  Challenge  Accepted.— Terms  of 
the  Duel.— Choice  of  Seconds  and  Arms.— Aspect  of  the  Two  Men.— Serious  Bearing  of 


40  CONTENTS. 

Broderick. — Terry's  Fearlessness. — Marking  the  Distance. — Its  Murderous  Shortness. — The 
Duelists  Placed. — Their  Persons  Examined.  —  "Gentlemen,  are  you  Ready  ?"•  -The 
Word  Given. — Both  Parties  Fire. — Broderick  Shot  in  the  Breast. — Last  Sufferings  and  End. 
— Sorrow  of  the  Community. — His  Body  Lies  in  State. — A  Similar  Deed  of  Horror. — Con 
gressional  Tragedy  in  1838. — Its  Deadly  Character 696 

LXXXII. 

JOHN  BROWN'S  CAPTURE  OK  HARPER'S  FERRY.  VA. — 1859. 

Seizure  and  Occupation  of  the  United  States  Armory. — A  Bold  Scheme  to  Free  the  Slaves. — 
Attacked  by  the  Militia,  lie  Retreats  to  the  Engine  House  and  Makes  it  His  Fortress. — 
The  Building  is  Surrounded  by  Federal  Troops  and  Forced  by  a  Battering  Ram. — Brown, 
Refusing  to  Surrender,  is  Overpowered  and  Made  Prisoner. — His  Genuine  Heroism  on  the 
Scaffold. — A  Long  Cherished  Plan. — Conference  Held  in  Canada. — Programme  of  Opera 
tions. — Harper's  Ferry  the  Strategic  Point. — First  Active  Movement  at  Night. — Only 
Twenty-two  Men  in  Force. — The  Town  in  Brown's  Possession. — Strange  Scenes  at  Day 
break. — Indescribable  Consternation. — Fighting  and  Bloodshed. — News  of  the  Attack  Sent 
Off. — Military  Companies  Pour  in. — Marines  Sent  from  Washington. — No  Mercy  Shown  the 
Insurgents. — Brown  is  Terribly  Wounded. — His  Indomitable  Fortitude. — Tried  for  Treason 
and  Murder. — Conviction:  Speech  in  Court. — Admiration  of  Him  by  His  Foes. — Walks 
Fearless  to  the  Gallows. — Mounts  the  Fatal  Platform. — "  1  am  Ready  at  any  Time  !  "  .  701 

LXXXIII. 

FALL  OF  THE  GREAT  PEMBEUTON  MILLS  IN  LAWRENCE,  MASS. — 1860. 
Nearly  One  Thousand  Persons  Buried  in  the  Ruins.— Multitudes,  Male  and  Female,  in  Youth 
and  Beauty,  Brought  in  a  Moment  to  Agony  and  Death. — Buisting  Fo;th  of  a  Sweeping 
Conflagration. — Commingling  of  Horrible  Sights  and  Sounds. — Hair-Breadth  Escapes. — 
Three  Fair  and  Beautiful  Corpses  Tight  Together. — The  Calamity  Instantaneous. — Sensa 
tions  of  the  Occupants. — Two  Acres  of  Ruins. — Flames  Suddenly  Belch  Forth. — Thrilling 
Cries  :  Woeful  Scenes. — Efforts  to  Rescue  the  Wounded. — Many  Left  to  Their  Fate. — Thou 
sands  of  Excited  Visitors. — Sympathy  and  Relief. — A  Room  Stored  with  the  Dead. — Won 
derful  Escape  of  a  Young  Woman. — Astonishing  Presence,  of  Mind. — Female  Heroism  and 
Devotion. — Tender  Girls  Struggling  in  the  Ruins. — Despair  and  Suicide. — Ladies  Work  the 
Fire  Engines. — Harrowing  and  Piteous  Appeals. — Cool  Pluck  of  an  Irishman. — Reading  the 
List  of  Victims. — Touching  Request  of  a  Dying  Girl. — Endurance  and  Resignation. — Ac 
count  of  the  Avondale  Colliery  Disaster 712 

LXXXIV. 

GRAND  EMBASSY  FROM  THE  EMPIRE  OF  JAPAN,  WITH  A  TREATY  OF  PEACE  AND  COM 
MERCE,  TO  THE  UNITED  STATES  GOVERNMENT. — 1860. 

First  Ambassadors  Ever  Sent  from  that  Ancient  Country  to  a  Foreign  Land. — Their  Official 
Reception  by  President  Buchanan,  and  Tour  of  Observation  to  the  Chief  Cities. — Public  In 
terest  Excited  by  this  Extraordinary  Mission. — Their  Oriental  Costume,  Manners,  Ceremo 
nies,  Etc. — Japanese  Distinction  Shown  to  Americans. — Character  of  the  Embassy. — Headed 
by  Eminent  Princes.— Numerous  and  Brilliant  Suite.— Arrival  at  Washington.— Procession 
to  the  Hotel.— Most  Curious  Spectacle.— How  the  Treaty  was  Carried.— Ceremonies  at  the 
White  House.  —  Salutations  and  Speeches.  —  Impressive  International  Scene.  —  Japanese 
Diplomacy.— Delivering  the  Tycoon's  Letter!— Personal  Appearance  of  the  Ambassadors.— 
President  Buchanan's  Opinion.— Humors  and  Drolleries.— "  Tommy,"  the  Ladies'  Pet.— 
Gallantry  to  Miss  Lane.— The  Embassy  at  the  Navy  Yard.— Astonishment  Expressed  by 
Them.— Adieu  to  the  President.— America's  Message  to  the  Emperor 7^1 

LXXXV. 

ARRIVAL  AND  EXHIBITION,  IN  NEW  YORK,  OF  THE  IRON  STEAMSHIP  GREAT  EASTERN.— 1860. 

The  Largest  and  Most  Extraordinary  Vessel  Ever  Constructed.— Burden,  20,000  Tons  ;  Length, 

Six  Hundred  and  Eighty  Feet— Tens  of  Thousands  of  Visitors  from  all  Parts  of  the  Union. 


CONTENTS.  41 

— Admiration  of  Her  Majestic  Proportions,  Ease  of  Movement,  and  Her  Splendid  and  Power, 
ful  Machinery. — Matchless  Triumph  of  Human  Genius  and  Skill.  —  "Wonders  of  the 
World,"  So  Called. — Modern  Achievements  Pre-eminent. — Marvels  of  Steam  Application. — 
First  Crossing  of  the  Atlantic. — Voyage  of  the  Savannah  in  1818. — Curiosity  and  Wonder 
Excited. — Visited  by  Crowned  Heads. — Most  Peculiar  Reminiscences  — Building  the  Great 
Western. — First  Regular  Ocean  Steamer. — Her  Complete  Success. — Growth  of  Ocean  Steam 
Transit. — Conception  of  the  Great  Eastern. — Her  Nautical  Peculiarities. — Architectural 
Perfection. — Superb  Appointments  Throughout. — Working  Power,  Eight  Thousand  Horses. — 
Ship's  Weight,  12,000  Tons. — Rated  for  Four  Thousand  Passengers. — Appearance  in  New 
York  Harbor. — Salutes,  Escorts,  Etc. — Greeted  by  Dense  Throngs 729 

LXXXVI. 

GENERAL  WALKER'S  FILIBUSTERING  EXPEDITIONS  TO  SONORA,  NICARAGUA,  AND  HON 
DURAS.— 1860. 

Character,  Method,  and  Object  of  His  Schemes. — His  Movements  Marked  by  Bloodshed  and 
Bold  Usurpation  of  Authority. — Retreat,  Capture,  and  Court-Martial  at  Truxillo. — Cool  Res 
ignation  to  His  Death-Sentence. — Solemn  March  to  the  Place  of  Execution. — Is  Shot,  and 
Instantly  Expires.  — Walker's  "  Star  of  Destiny." —  Short-Sighted  Calculations. —  Daring 
Qualities  of  the  Man. — Bitter  Luck  in  Sonora. — Starvation  :  Inglorious  Flight. — Nicaragua 
the  Land  of  Promise. — Contempt  of  Neutrality  Laws. — United  States  Officials  Outwitted. — 
Champagne  vs.  Handcuffs. —  Battles  at  Rivas  and  Virgin  Bay. —  Splendid  Successes  of 
Walker. — Styles  Himself  "  The  Regenerator." — Treaty  between  Generals  Walker  and  Cor 
ral. — Corral  Charged  with  Treason,  and  Shot. — Combination  Against  Walker. — His  Escape 
to  the  United  States. — New  but  Abortive  Attempts  on  Nicaragua. — Turns  Up  Next  at  Trux 
illo. — Is  Defeated  by  the  Honduras  Troops. — His  Doom  Announced  to  Him. — Dying  Declara> 
tions. — A  Volley ;  Three  Cheers  ;  the  End 737 

LXXXVII. 
TOUR  OF  His  ROYAL   HIGHNESS,  ALBERT    EDWARD,  PRINCE    OF   WALES,  THROUGH  THE 

UNITED  STATES. — 1SGO. 

Friendly  Letters  between  President  Buchanan  and  Queen  Victoria  on  the  Subject.  — The 
Prince's  First  Entrance  Into  American  Waters. — Unbounded  Hospitalities  Extended  Him. 
— Hunting  Excursions,  Military  Reviews,  Balls,  Illuminations,  Etc.— Splendid  Banquet  at 
the  White  House. — England's  Appreciation  of  these  Honors  to  Her  Future  King. — Heir  to 
the  British  Throne.— Arrival  at  Detroit,  Chicago,  Etc.— Enthusiastic  Crowds  Greet  Him.— 
His  Way  Completely  Blocked  Up. — On  a  Hunt :  Fine  Sportsman. — Receptions  at  Various 
Cities. — Locomotive  Ride  to  Washington. — Guest  of  President  Buchanan. — Courtesies  and 
Ceremonials. — Visit  to  Mount  Vernon. — At  the  Tomb  of  Washington. — Unparalleled  His 
torical  Scene. — He  Plants  a  Tree  at  the  Grave. — Rare  Scenes  in  Philadelphia. — New  York 
and  Boston  Festivities. — Present  from  Trinity  Church,  New  York. — Greatest  Balls  Ever 
Known. — He  Meets  a  Bunker  Hill  Veteran. — Impressions  of  America. — Incidents,  Anecdotes, 
Interviews. — His  Looks,  Manners,  Dress,  Etc. — Brilliant  Farewell  at  Portland.  .  .  .  745 

LXXXVIH. 

BOMBARDMENT  AND  REDUCTION  OF  FORT  SUMTER. — 1861. 

Inauguration  of  Civil  War  in  the  United  States. — First  Military  Act  in  the  Long  and  Bloody 
Struggle  to  Dismember  the  Union. — Organization  of  the  Southern  Confederacy. — President 
Lincoln's  Proclamation  for  75,000  Volunteers. — Spontaneous  Uprising  of  the  Loyal  People. 
— Calling  the  Battle-Roll  of  the  Republic. — Supreme  Crisis  in  the  Fate  of  the  Nation. — 
Northern  and  Southern  Variances. — Slavery  the  Cause  of  Contention. — Culmination  of  the 
Antagonism. — Disunion  Banner  of  the  South. — Secession  of  Several  States. — War  Wager 
Boldly  Staked.— Vain  Efforts  at  Reconciliation.— Federal  Property  Seized  at  the  South.— 
Batteries  Erected  at  Charleston. — Fort  Sumter  Closely  Besieged. — Beauregard  Demands  its 
Surrender.— Major  Anderson's  Flat  Refusal.— Weakness  of  His  Garrison.— Attempts  to  Re- 


42  CONTENTS. 

enforce  It.— Prevented  by  Confederate  Batteries.— All  Eyes  Riveted  on  the  Fort.— Opening 
ot  the  Attack,  April  Fourteenth. — Incessant  and  Tremendous  Fire. — Terms  of  Evacuation 
Accepted.— Southern  Rejoicings.— The  Great  Military  Outlook. — Washington  the  National 
Key 753 

LXXXIX. 

ASTONISHING  FEATS  OF  HORSE-TAMING  PERFORMED  BY  MR.  JOHN  S.  RAREY. — 1SG1. 
The  Most  Savage  and  Furious  Animals  Made  Tractable  as  Lambs. — The  Ferocious  and  Far- 
Famed  "  Cruiser  "  Lies  Docile  at  His  Master's  Feet. — Acclamations  of  Wonder  and  Admira 
tion  by  Crowded  Audiences. — Brilliant  Honors  from  Monarchs  and  Courts  Abroad. — Philos 
ophy  of  Mr.  Rarey's  Method  and  Success. — Mr.  Rarey  Personally. — Boyhood  Fondness  for 
Horses. — Aptness  in  Training  Them. — Discovers  an  Improved  Method. — Its  Perfect  Success. 
— Wild  Prairie  Horses  Subdued. — Determines  to  Exhibit  Abroad. — His  Skill  Challenged  in 
London. — "Cruiser"  to  be  the  Great  Test. — Rage  and  Fury  of  the  Animal. — Plunging, 
Rearing,  Yelling,  Biting. — Rarey's  Complete  Triumph. — Monarchs  and  Princes  Present. — 
Their  Surprise  and  Delight.— Victoria's  Rapturous  Applause. — Exhibitions  in  the  United 
States. — Terrible  Cases  Dealt  With. — Rarey  Always  Conqueror. — His  Calm,  Fine,  Firm 
Voice. — Cool,  Quiet,  Quick  Movements. — Magnetism  of  His  Presence. — Details  of  the  Sys 
tem 7U1 

XC. 

BATTLE  AT  BULL  RUN,  VA.,  BETWEEN  THE  FEDERAL  AND  CONFEDERATE  ARMIES. — 1861. 

First  Important  Engagement  in  the  Great  Civil  War. — Severe  Fighting  for  Many  Hours. — 
Most  Disastrous  Defeat  of  the  Federal  Troops. — Their  Uncontrollable  Panic  and  Headlong 
Flight. — The  South  Jubilant. — Gloom  and  Humiliation  of  the  Loyal  States. — Three  Months 
Since  Sumter  Fell. — Armies  Massed  at  Washington  and  Richmond. — Threats  Against  tin; 
Federal  Capital. — Irritation  and  Impatience  of  the  North. — "On  to  Richmond!"  the  Union 
War-Cry. — March  of  McDowell's  Army. — Plan  of  the  Movement. — Rousing  the  Southern 
Forces. — Their  Unexpected  Strength. — Uncertain  Fate  of  the  Day. — Re-enforcements  for  the 
Confederates. — Davis's  Arrival  on  the  Ground. — He  Exclaims,  "Onward,  My  Brave  Com 
rades  ! "  —Their  Wild  Enthusiasm. — A  Lost  Battle  for  the  Union. — Complete  Demoralization. 
—Three  Miles  of  Scattered  Troops. — Arms,  Stores,  etc.,  Flung  Away. — Distressing  Sights 
and  Sounds. — Thanksgiving  Appointed  by  Davis. — Te  Deums  Sung  in  the  Southern  Churches. 
—Lessons  Taught  by  this  Battle 760 

XCI. 
EXTRAORDINARY  COMBAT   BETWEEN  THE  IRON-CLADS   MERRIMAC  AND  MONITOR,  IN 

HAMPTON  ROADS. — 1862. 

Sudden  Appearance  of  the  Merrimac  Among  the  Federal  Frigates.— Their  Swift  and  Terrible 
Destruction  by  Her  Steel  Prow.— Unexpected  Arrival  of  the  "  Little  Monitor  "  at  the  Scene 
of  Action.— She  Engages  and  Disables  the  Monster  Craft  in  a  Four  Hours  Fight.— Total 
Revolution  in  Naval  Warfare  the  World  Over  by  this  Remarkable  Contest.— How  the  Mer- 
rimac  Changed  Hands. -Burned  and  Sunk  at  Norfolk,  Va.— Her  Hull  Raised  by  the  Confed 
erates.— She  is  Iron  Roofed  and  Plated.—  Proof  Against  Shot  and  Shell.— A  Powerful  Steel 
Beak  in  Her  Prow. — Most  Formidable  Vessel  Afloat. — In|  Command  of  Commodore  Buchanan. 
—Departs  from  Norfolk,  March  Eighth.— Pierces  and  Sinks  the  Cumberland.— Next  Attacks 
the  Congress. — The  Noble  Frigate  Destroyed. — Fight  Begun  with  the  Minnesota. — Suspended 
at  Nightfall. — Trip  of  the  Monitor  from  New  York. — Her  New  and  Singular  Build. — Lieu 
tenant  Worden  Hears  of  the  Battles.— Resolves  to  Grapple  with  the  Monster.— The  Two 
Together  Next  Day.— A  Scene  Never  to  be  Forgotten.— Wordeu  Turns  the  Tide  of  Fortune. 
— Repulse  and  Retreat  of  the  Merrimac.  .  ,  778 


CONTEXTS.  43 

XCII. 

BATTLE  OF  ANTIETAM,  MARYLAND. — 1862. 

Bloodiest  Day  That  America  Ever  Saw. — Nearly  One  Hundred  Thousand  Men  on  Each  Side. 
— General  McClellan  Declares  on  the  Field  that  it  is  "  the  Battle  of  the  War." — Four  Miles 
and  Fourteen  Hours  of  Fighting  and  Slaughter. — The  Shock  and  "  Glory  "  of  War  on  a 
Colossal  Scale. — Obstinate  Bravery  of  the  Contending  Foes. — Some  of  the  Regiments  Almost 
Annihilated. — The  Union  Troops  Hold  the  Disputed  Ground. — Lee's  Great  Military  Object. 
— His  Troops  Enter  Maryland. — Frowning  Masses  of  Soldiery. — Surrender  of  Harper's  Ferry. 
— McClellan's  Army  in  Motion. —  He  Attacks  the  Enemy  in  Position. — Hooker  Leads  the 
Advance. — He  is  Shot  and  Disabled. — Death  of  General  Mansfield. — Other  Union  Generals 
Wounded. — Reno's  Untimely  End. — Rain  of  Shot  and  Shell. — Various  Fortunes  of  the  Day. 
— Close  and  Stern  Ordeal. — Feat  of  Burnside's  Corps. — Their  Struggle  for  the  Hill. — A  Fear 
ful  Crisis  with  General  Burnside. — He  Asks  for  Re-enforcements. — McClellan's  Memorable 
Reply. — Driving  the  Enemy  en  masse. — Forty  of  Their  Colors  Taken. — The  After-Scene  of 
Horror 787 

XCIIT. 

PROCLAMATION*  OF  EMANCIPATION,  AS  A  WAR  MEASURE,  BY  PRESIDENT  LINCOLN. — 1863. 

More  than  Three  Millions,  in  Bondage  at  the  South,  Declared  Forever  Free. — Most  Important 
American  State  Paper  Since  July  Fourth,  1776. — Pronounced,  by  the  President,  "  the  Great 
Event  of  the  Nineteenth  Century." — The  Whole  System  of  Slavery  Finally  Swept  from  the 
Republic,  by  Victories  in  the  Field  and  by  Constitutional  Amendments. — Mr.  Lincoln's 
Views  on  Slavery. — Opposed  to  all  Unconstitutional  Acts. — His  Orders  to  Union  Generals. — 
Prohibits  the  Arming  of  Negroes. — Alarming  Progress  of  Events. — The  Great  Exigency  at 
Last.— Slavery  versus  the  Union. — Solemn  and  Urgent  Alternative.— Emancipation  Under  the 
War-Power. — Preparation  of  the  Great  Document. — Its  Submission  to  the  Cabinet. — Opin 
ions  and  Discussions. — Singular  Reason  for  Delay. — Mr.  Lincoln's  Vow  to  God. — Waiting 
for  a  Union  Triumph.— Decided  by  the  Battle  of  Antietam.— Final  Adoption  of  the  Measure. 
— Mr.  Carpenter's  Admirable  Narrative. — Public  Reception  of  the  Proclamation. — Promulga 
tion  at  the  South.— Scenes  of  Joy  Among  the  Freedrnen.— Enfranchisement  Added  to  Free 
dom 796 

XCIV. 

CAMPAIGN  AGAINST  VICKSBURG,  "THE  GIBRALTAR  OF  THE  MISSISSIPPI,"  BY  THE  UNION 

FORCES. — 1863. 

The  Genius,  Valor,  and  Resources  of  Both  Armies  Tasked  to  Their  Utmost.— Final  Capitula 
tion  of  the  City  by  General  Pemberton,  After  a  Prolonged  and  Brilliant  Siege.— Heaviest 
Blow  Yet  Dealt  the  Secession  Cause.— General  McPherson  Receives  the  Formal  Surrender.— 
37,000  Prisoners,  Fifteen  Generals,  Arms  and  Munitions  for  60,000  Men,  the  Trophies.— Geo 
graphical  Importance  of  Vicksburg.— Its  Commanding  Fortifications.— Farragut's  Naval 
Siege  Powerless.— Sherman's  Attack  Repulsed.— Grant  Assumes  Active  Command.— Vigor 
ous  Operations  Undertaken.— His  Series  of  Victorious  Battles.— Futile  Attempt  to  Storm 
Vicksburg.— Hours  of  Terrific  Cannonading.— A  Systematic  Siege  Begun.— Thorough  In 
vestment  at  all  Points. — Federal  Sapping  and  Mining.— They  Mine  and  Blow  up  Fort  Hill.— 
Awful  Spectacle  of  Blood  and  Ruin.— Deadly  Struggle  for  a  Foothold.— Success  of  the  Forty- 
fifth  Illinois.— Their  Colors  Surmount  the  Work.— Pemberton  Sends  a  Flag  of  Truce.— His 
Interview  with  Grant.— Grant's  Terms  :  "  Unconditional  Surrender."— The  Victors  Enter 
the  City,  July  Fourth. — Curious  Reminiscences ^06 

xcv. 

THREE  DAYS'  BATTLE  BETWEEN  THE  CONCENTRATED  ARMIES  OF  GENERALS  MEADE  AND 

LEE,  AT  GETTYSBURG,  PA. — 1863. 

Overwhelming  Invasion  of  Pennsylvania  by  the  Confederate  Forces. — The  Union  Army  Drives 
Them  with  Great  Slaughter  Across  the  Potomac. — Unsuccessful  Attempt  to  Transfer  the 
Seat  of  War  from  Virginia  to  Northern  Soil.— One  of  the  Most  Decisive  and  Important 


44  CONTENTS. 

Federal  Victories  in  the  Great  American  Civil  Conflict. — Lee's  Army  Impatient  to  go  North. 

Order  of  March  at  Last. — Consternation  in  the  Border  States. — Call  for   One   Hundred 

Thousand  More  Men.— Advance  of  M cade's  Army.— Face  to  Face  With  the  Foe.— Engagement 
between  the  Vanguards. — Terrific  Artillery  Contests. — Movements  and  Counter  Movements. — 
Severe  Reveises  on  Both  Sides. — Carnage  at  Cemetery  Hill. — Longstreet's  Furious  Onset. — 
Most  Destructive  Cannonade. — Gettysburg  a  Vast  Hospital. — Crawford's  Grand  Charge. — 
Standing  by  the  Batteries  ! — Iland-to-Hand  Conflict. — Following  the  Battle-Flag.— Deadly 
and  Impetuous  Fighting. — Forty-one  Confederate  Standards  Taken. — Unbounded  Joy  of 
the  Victors. — President  Lincoln's  Announcement 815 

XCVI. 
ORATORICAL   CHAMPIONSHIP  OF  AMERICA'S  CAUSE   IN   ENGLAND,  BV   REV.  II.  W. 

BEECHKR.— 18G3. 

Hi.s  Olympian  Speeches,  in  Defiance  of  British  Sentiment,  in  the  Great  Cities  of  the  Kingdom. 
— His  Eloquence  Rises  to  the  Very  Crown  of  the  Occasion. —  Superb  Exhibition  of  Forensic 
Power  in  Liverpool. — He  Wrestles,  Single-Handed  and  Triumphantly,  for  Three  Hours,  with 
a  Vast  and  Tumultuous  Mob  in  that  City. — Reception  at  Exeter  Hall,  London. — Mr.  Beech- 
er's  Tour  Undertaken  for  His  Health. — Reaches  England,  Homeward  Bound. — Civil  Conflict 
Raging  in  America. — Mr.  Buecher  Urged  to  Spj.:ak  on  United  States  Affairs. —  Opening 
Speech  in  Manchester. — Great  Audience  of  Seven  Thousand. — Attempts  to  Silence  Him.— 
Powerlessness  of  the  Opposition. — Splendid  Qualities  as  an  Orator. — Discussions  in  Glasgow 
and  Edinburgh. — Battle  Waged  by  Mr.  Boecher  in  Liverpool. — Violent  Efforts  to  Gag  Him. 
— A  Maddened  Sea  of  Insult. — Taunts,  Curses,  Hisses,  Fury. — Stampings,  Hootings.  Yell- 
ings. — Beecher's  Pluck,  and  Good  Humor. — He  Triumphs  Over  the  Wild  Tempest. — A  Spec 
tacle  Never  Before  Witnessed. — Grand  Closing  Scene  in  the  British  Capital. — Vast  and 
Excited  Assembly. — He  Carries  the  House  by  Storm. — Plaudits  and  Congratulations. .  825 

xcvn. 

ERECTION  AND  INAUGURATION  OF  THE  GREAT  ORGAN  IN  THE  BOSTON  Music  HALL. — 18G3. 

Most  Majestic  and  Perfect  Instrument  of  the  Kind  in  America. — Almost  without  an  Equal 
in  the  Whole  World.— Height,  Sixty  Feet;  Width,  Forty-eight  Feet;  Depth,  Twenty-four 
Feet;  Weight,  Seventy  Tons;  Cost,  $00,000. —  Its  Vast  and  Enchanting  Harmonies  and 
Wondrous  Frama  of  Architectural  Beauty. — The  Masterpiece  of  Musical  Art. — Origin  of  the 
Enterprise. —  Dr.  Upham's  Grand  Conception. —  Full  Powers  Conferred  Upon  Him. — His 
Seven  Years'  Labor  and  Care. — America  and  Europe  Explored. — A  Colossal  Instrument 
Decided  On. — Object  and  Influence  of  Such. — Contract  for  Its  Construction  in  Germany. — 
Unrivaled  Mechanism  of  the  Work.— Completed,  and  Shipped  for  Boston.— Three  Months' 
Tempestuous  Voyage. — Enshrinement  of  the  Organ  in  a  Case. — Its  Towers,  Domes,  and 
Sculptures.— Wind  Pipes,  Thirty-two  Feet  Long.— Eighty-nine  Full  Registers.— Total  Num 
ber  of  Pipes,  Five  Thousand  Four  Hundred  and  Seventy-four.— Capacity  of  the  Organ,  Six 
Thousand  Voices.— Ease  with  which  It  is  Performed. — Marvelous  Lights  and  Shades  of  Tone. 
—First  Exposition  to  the  Public.— Enthusiasm  and  Joy  on  the  Occasion.— Music,  Poetry, 
Art,  Beauty 83:} 

XCVIII. 

COMBAT  BETWEEN  THE  ALABAMA,  CAPTAIN  SEMMES,  AND  THE  KEARSAKGE,  CAPTAIN 

WINSLOW,  OFF  CHERBOURG. — 1864. 

The  Alabama  is  Sunk  after  an  Hour's  Engagement,  in  Sight  of  the  Two  Great  Maritime  Pow 
ers  of  Europe.— Semmes  Throws  His  Sword  Away,  Jumps  Overboard,  and  Escapes.— Rela 
tive  Equality,  in  Size  and  Armament,  of  the  Two  Vessels.  —  The  Previous  Destructive 
Career  of  the  Alabama  Against  Northern  Commerce.— Causeless  Raid  on  Marine  Property. 
—Fault  in  the  Law  of  Nations.— British  Origin  of  the  Alabama.— Her  Unmistakable  Char 
acter—Peculiar  Model  and  Equipment.— Adapted  to  Destroy,  Fight,  or  Run.— Adroit  Ship 
ment  of  Stores  and  Guns.— Ready  for  a  Start.— All  Hands  Mustered  Aft.— Semmes  Reads 
Aloud  His  Commission.— Cheers  for  Davis,  Semmes,  Etc.— Salute  Fired:  Hoisting  the  Flag. 


CONTEXTS.  45 

— A  Long  Cruise :  Terrible  Ravages. — Puts  in,  at  Cherbourg,  France. — The  United  States 
Ship  Kearsarge  on  His  Track. — Semmes  Boldly  Offers  to  Fight. — Preliminary  Maneuvers  of 
the  Ships. — Seven  Circles  Round  Each  Other. — Semmes's  Rapid  and  Furious  Fire. — Supe 
rior  Gunnery  of  the  Kearsarge. — Its  Fatal  Effect  on  the  Alabama. — Incidents  of  this 
Renowned  Fight 840 

XCIX. 

ADMIRAL  FARRAGUT'S  ACHIEVEMENTS  AT  NEW  ORLEANS  IN  1862,  AND  AT  MOBILE  BAY  IN 
1864  ;  AND  ADMIRAL  PORTER'S  CROWNING  VICTORY  IN  1865,  AT  FORT  FISHER. — 1864. 

His  Astonishing  Feat  of  Rowing  Past  the  Confederate  Batteries. — Fierce  and  Sanguinary  Con 
test  between  the  Admiral's  Flag-ship,  the  Hartford,  and  Admiral  Buchanan's  Monster  Ram, 
the  Tennessee. — The  Latter  Proves  Herself,  for  a  Time,  a  Match  for  the  Whole  Union  Fleet. 
— Farragut's  Overwhelming  Victory. — Farragut  Pressed  to  Join  the  South. — His  Unswerv 
ing  Fidelity  to  the  Old  Flag.  — High  Trust  Committed  to  Him. — Sailing  of  His  Great  Fleet. 
— Bold  and  Successful  Plan  of  Battle. — Admiral  Porter's  Splendid  Services. — Ports  Jackson 
and  St.  Philip  Wrecked. — New  Orleans  Again  Under  the  United  States  Flag. — Another 
Theater  of  Xaval  Operations. — Forts,  Rams,  Iron-Clads,  Etc.,  to  Fight. — Powerful  Build  of 
the  Tennessee. — Makes  for  Her  Antagonist  at  Full  Speed.— Intended  Running  Down  of  the 
Hartford. — Farragut's  Masterly  Maneuvers.— Unexpected  Feature  in  His  Tactics. — Deadly 
Contact  of  the  Various  Craft. — Tremendous  Cannonades. — The  "  Glory"  and  Horrors  of 
War. — Stubborn  Bravery  of  the  Great  Ram. — Crippled  at  Last :  The  White  Flag. — The 
Stars  and  Stripes  on  Her  Staff. — Buchanan  Yields  His  Sword 848 

C. 

GRAND  MARCH  OF  THE  UNION  ARMY,  UNDER  GENERAL  SHERMAN,  THROUGH  THE  HEART 

OF  THE  SOUTH. — 1864. 

Generals  and  Armies  Baffled,  and  States  and  Cities  Conquered,  Without  a  Serious  Disaster  to 
the  Victors. — Display  of  Military  Genius  Unsurpassed  in  Any  Age  or  Country. — The  Southern 
Confederacy  Virtually  Crushed  Within  the  Coils  of  this  Wide-Sweeping,  Bold,  and  Resist 
less  Movement. — The  Great  Closing  Act  in  the  Campaign. — Sherman's  Qualities  as  a  Com 
mander. — His  Great  Military  Success. — His  Own  Story. — A  Brilliant  Campaign  Planned. — 
Brave  and  Confident  Troops. — Atlanta,  Ga.,  the  First  Great  Prize. — Destroys  that  City:  Starts 
for  the  Coast. — Kilpatrick  Leads  the  Cavalry. — Thomas  Defends  the  Border  States. — Success 
ful  Feints  Made  by  Sherman. —  Subsists  His  Men  on  the  Enemy's  Country. — Immense  Sweep 
of  the  Onward  Columns. — Savannah's  Doom  Sealed. — Fall  of  Fort  McAllister. — Christmas 
Gift  to  the  President. — Advance  Into  South  Carolina. — The  Stars  and  Stripes  in  Her  Cap 
ital. — All  Opposition  Powerless. — North  Carolina's  Turn  Next. — Swamps,  Hills.  Quagmires, 
Storms,  Floods. — Battles  Fought :  Onward  to  Raleigh. — Johnston's  Whole  Army  Bagged. — 
Sherman  Described  Personally 857 

CI. 

FALL  OF  RICHMOND,  VA.,  THE  CONFEDERATE  CAPITAL. — 1865. 

The  Entrenched  City  Closely  Encompassed  for  Months  by  General  Grant's  Brave  Legions  and 
Walls  of  Steel.— Flight  of  Jefferson  Davis,  and  Surrender  of  General  Lee's  Army.— Overthrow 
of  the  Four  Years'  Gigantic  Rebellion.— The  JEgis  and  Starry  Ensigns  of  the  Republic 
Everywhere  Dominant. — Transports  of  Joy  Fill  the  Land. — A  Nation's  Laurels  Crown  the 
Head  of  the  Conqueror  of  Peace. — Memorable  Day  in  Human  Affairs. — Momentous  Issues 
Involved. — Heavy  Cost  of  this  Triumph. — Without  It,  a  Lost  Republic. — Unequaled  Valor 
Displayed.— Sherman's  Grand  Conceptions.— Sheridan's  Splendid  Generalship.— Onward 
March  of  Events. — Strategy,  Battles,  Victories.— Lee's  Lines  Fatally  Broken.— Approach  of 
the  Final  Crisis.— Richmond  Evacuated  by  Night.— Retreat  of  Lee  :  Vigorous  Pursuit.— 
His  Hopeless  Resistance  to  Grant. — Their  Correspondence  and  Interview. — The  Two  Great 
Generals  Face  to  Face.— What  Was  Said  and  Done.— Announcing  the  Result.— Parting  of 
Lee  with  His  Soldiers.— President  Lincoln's  Visit  to  Richmond.— Raising  the  United  States 
Fla<f  at  Fort  Sumter. — Davis  a  Prisoner  in  Fortress  Monroe 866 


46  CONTENTS. 

CII. 

A-s  \--IN  ATION     OK      I'i:r-iM-.\  r      LINCOLN,     A  i      l''«>i:i>'<     Tin  AIKII.     WASHINGTON,     I;Y     .1. 

WILKES  BOOTH. — 18(35. 

Conspiracy  to  Murder,  Simultaneously,  all  the  Chief  Officers  of  the  Government. — The  Most 
Exalted  and  Beloved  of  Mortal  Rulers  Falls  a  Victim. — A  Universal  Wail  of  Anguish  and 
Lamentation  Poured  Forth  from  the  National  Heart. — Darkest  Page  in  the  History  of  the 
Country. — Funeral  Cortege  Through  Fifteen  States. — Tragical  Fate  of  the  Conspirators. — 
Object  of  this  Most  Infamous  of  Crimes. — Singular  Time  of  Its  Perpetration. — Virtual  End 
of  the  Great  Civil  War. — Dawn  of  Peace  :  Universal  Joy. — President  Lincoln's  Happy  Frame 
of  Mind. — How  He  Passed  His  Last  Day. — Conversations  on  the  Evening  of  April  Four 
teenth. — Makes  an  Engagement  for  the  Morrow. — Last  Time  He  Signed  His  Name. — Re 
luctantly  Goes  to  the  Theater. — Arrives  Late :  Immense  Audience. — Plans  and  Movements  of 
the  Assassin. — The  Fatal  Shot :  a  Tragedy  of  Horrors. — Removal  of  the  President  to  a  Pri 
vate  House. — Speechless  and  Unconscious  to  the  End. — Death-Bod  Scenes  and  Incidents. — 
The  Nation  Stunned  at  the  Appalling  News. — Its  Reception  at  the  South,  and  by  General 
Lee. — A  Continent  in  Tears  and  Mourning. — Most  Imposing  Obsequies  Ever  Known. — 
Booth's  Swift  and  Bloody  End. — Trial  of  His  Male  and  Female  Accomplices.  .  .  .  876 


cm. 

SUCCESSFUL  LAYING  OF  THE  TELEGRAPH  CABLE   ACROSS  THE    ATLANTIC   OCEAN. — 1866. 

The  Old  World  and  the  New  United  by  Instantaneous  Communication. — Pronounced  the 
Grandest  of  Human  Enterprises. — Ten  Years  of  Difficulty  and  Failure  in  the  Mighty  Task. 
— The  Name  of  Its  Indomitable  Projector  Crowned  with  Immortal  Honor. — Illustrations  of 
the  Power  and  Wonders  of  this  New-Born  Agent  of  Civilization. — Ocean  Telegraphs  Early 
Predicted. — First  Attempt  in  1857. — Breaking  of  the  Wire. — Fresh  but  Abortive  Trials  in 
1858  and  1865. — Great  Preparations  for  I860. — Exquisite  Construction  of  the  Cable.— A 
Wealthy  and  Powerful  Company. — Cyrus  W.  Field,  Its  Master-Spirit. — Employment  of  the 
Great  Eastern. — Laying  tha  Shore-End  at  Valentia. — Rejoicing  of  the  Inhabitants. — Voyage 
of  the  Fleet  to  America. — Incidents  and  Accidents. — Intense  Solicitude,  Day  and  Night. — A 
Joyous  Morning!  July  Twenty-seventh. — Perfect  Success  from  End  to  End. — First  News 
Dispatch,  Peace  in  Europe. — Messages  between  the  President  and  Queen. — Compliments  to 
Mr.  Field. — His  Interview  with  Lord  Clarendon. — John  Bright's  Sparkling  Tribute. — Moral 
Uses  of  the  Cable.  .  .  888 


CIV. 

COMPLETION  OF  THE  PACIFIC  RAILROAD. — 1869. 

Spikes  of  the  Richest  Gold  and  a  Hammer  of  Pure  Silver  Used  in  Laying  the  Last  Rail. — The 
Blows  of  the  Sledge  Telegraphed  to  all  the  Great  Cities.— The  Wide  Continent  Spanned  with 
Iron  from  the  Farthest  East  to  the  Golden  Gate.— Junction  of  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific 
Oceans.— Seve.n  Days  from  New  York  to  San  Francisco.— Greatest  Railroad  Route  on  the 
Face  of  the^Earth.— "Manifest  Destiny"  of  the  United  States.— A  Pacific  Highway  Agitated 
For  Years."— Its  National  Importance  and  Necessity.— Charters  and  Government  Aid  at  Last. 
The  "Union"  and  "Central"  Companies. — National  Difficulties  to  be  Overcome. — Feats 
of  Engineering  Involved.— Triumphs  of  Science  in  this  Respect.— Mountains  Tunneled,  Riv 
ers  Bridged.— Gulfs  Spanned,  Depths  Fathomed.— Vastness  and  Progress  of  the  Work.— A 
Force  of  Twenty-five  Thousand  Men  and  Six  Thousand  Teams. — First  Train  at  the  Top  of 
the  Sierras.— Pushing  the  Line  to  Completion.— Approach  of  the  Two  Grand  Divisions.— 
Union  at  Promontory  Point,  Utah.— Exultation  Over  the  Victory.— Historic  Scene  in  the 
Heart  of  America.— Offerings  of  Gold,  Silver,  Iron,  and  Laurel.— Telegram  to  President 
Grant.— Celebrations  in  the  Principal  Cities.— Easy  Journey  Around  the  World.  ...  896 


CONTENTS.  47 

CV. 

NATIONAL  PEACE  JUBILEE  AND  MUSICAL  FESTIVAL  FOR  FIVE  DAYS,  IN  BOSTON,  IN  HONOR 
OF  THE  RESTORATION  OF  THE  UNION  OF  THE  STATES. — 1869. 

Ten  Thousand  Singers,  an  Orchestra  of  One  Thousand  Instruments,  and  Tens  of  Thousands  of 
Spectators,  in  the  Coliseum,  an  Immense  Building  Erected  for  the  Occasion. — Attendance  of 
President  Grant. — Sublime  and  Inspiring  Harmonies. — Most  Majestic  Musical  Demonstra 
tion  of  Modern  Times. — Origin  of  the  Jubilee. — P.  S.  Gilmore :  His  Zeal  and  Enthusiasm. — 
All  Discouragements  Overcome. — Magnificent  Programme. — Splendor  of  the  Coliseum.— It 
Covers  Nearly  Four  Acres. — Inauguration  Ceremonies. — View  of  the  Audience. — Scene  of 
Surpassing  Enchantment. — Beauty  of  the  Decorations. — Overtures,  Choruses,  Anthems,  Etc. 
— Parepa-Rosa,  Phillipps,  Ole  Bull. — Their  Professional  Triumphs. — Zerrahn,  Tourjee,  Eich- 
berg. — The  Famous  "  Anvil  "  Chorus. — Chiming  the  City  Bells. — Novel  Commingling  of 
Artillery  with  Music. — Tremendous  Ovation  to  Grant. — Half  a  Million  People  in  the  City. — 
Testimonial  to  Mr.  Gilmore. — Last  Day  :  Concert  by  10,000  Children. — Triumphant  Success 
of  the  Jubilee 904 

CVI. 

BURNING  OF  THE  CITY  OF  CHICAGO,  ILL.,  THE  COMMERCIAL  METROPOLIS  or  THE  NORTH 
WEST.— 1871. 

Most  Destructive  Conflagration  in  the  History  of  Civilized  Nations. — A  Thirty  Hours'  Tornado 
of  Fire  in  all  Directions. — Vast  Billows  of  Inextinguishable  Flame. — Upwards  of  Two  Thou 
sand  Acres,  or  Seventy-three  Miles  of  Streets,  with  17,450  Buildings,  Destroyed :  Loss, 
$200,000,000.— Ignoble  Origin  of  the  Fire.— Fatal  Mistake  of  a  Policeman.— Combustibles 
all  Around. — A  Strong  Gale  Prevailing. — Frightful  Rapidity  of  the  Flames. — Destruction  of 
the  Water-Works. — Stores  and  Warehouses  Swept  Away. — Palaces  and  Hovels  a  Common 
Prey. — Engines  Sent  from  Seven  States. — The  Midnight  Scene. — Terror  Indescribable. — 
Flight  for  Life. — Burning  of  the  Bridges. — Hopelessness,  Desperation,  Death. — Churches, 
Hotels,  Theaters,  in  Ashes. — Fate  of  the  Newspapers,  Banks,  etc. — Explosion  of  the  Gas- 
Works. — Tombs  and  Graves  Consumed. — Most  Ghastly  Spectacle. — Nearly  100,000  Persons 
Homeless.— The  Wail  for  Help.— A  World's  Sympathies  Poured  Forth 913 

CVII. 
TERRIBLE  FIRE  IN  THE  BUSINESS  HEART  OF  BOSTON. — 1872. 

It  Rages  Fiercely,  Night  and  Day,  and  Consumes  the  Widest  and  Most  Magnificent  Area  of 
Solid  Granite  Warehouses  on  the  Continent. — Some  Sixty-five  Acres  of  these  Massive  and 
Apparently  Indestructible  Commercial  Palaces  Crumble  Like  Chalk  in  the  Intense  Heat. — 
The  Great  Financial  and  Commercial  Center  of  New  England  Destroyed. — Surprising  Char 
acter  of  this  Fire. — Comparison  with  that  of  Chicago. — No  Gale:  Moderate  Weather. — 
Strange  Rapidity  of  the  Flames. — They  Spread  in  all  Directions. — Triumphant  Sweep  from 
Block  to  Block. — Thoroughness  of  the  Destruction. — Iron  and  Stone  No  Barriers. — Difficulties 
of  the  Situation. — Great  Height  of  the  Stores. — Narrowness  of  the  Streets.- -Trinity  Church 
in  Ruins. — Blowing  up  with  Gunpowder. — Grand  and  Terrible  Scenes. — Narrow  Escape  of 
the  "  Old  South." — State  Street  and  its  Treasures  Reached. — Victory  at  Last  by  the  Firemen. 
— Peril,  Bravery,  Death. — A  Whole  City  in  Darkness. — Some  Eight  Hundred  Buildings 
Burned.— Trades  that  Specially  Suffered.— Loss  About  $85,000,000 920 

cviir. 

THE  NATIONAL  GRANGE  MOVEMENT. — 1872. 

Popular  Organizations  in  the  Interests  of  Labor. — Changes  Sought  in  the  Relations  between 
Producers  and  Consumers. — General  Declaration  of  Principles  and  Aims — A  System  of  Uni 
versal  Co-operation  Proposed. — Results  to  be  Realized  by  Such  Combinations. — Patrons  of 
Husbandry  and  Sovereigns  of  Industry. — Initiative  Proceedings  in  1807. — First  Grange 
Founded  in  Washington,  D.  C. — Agriculture  the  Grand  Basis. — Mutual  Protection  and 
Advancement. — Small  Encouragement  at  the  Beginning. — Immense  Growth  in  Five  Years. 


48  CONTEXTS. 

— Activity  in  the  West  and  South.— Social  and  Moral  Aspects.— rian  of  Business  Action. — 
Partisan  Prejudices  Disavowed. — Xo  Political  Tests  Involved. — Opinions  of  Eminent  Leaders 
Cited. — Views  of  Foreign  Publicists. — Vital  Point  in  the  Xew  System. — Commercial  and 
Financial  Theories. — Grain  and  Cotton  Products. — Alleged  Errors  in  Trade  Customs. — Indi- 
Tidual  r.«.  Associated  Efforts. — '  Middlemen '  a  Disadvantage. — Substitute  for  Their  Interven 
tion. — The  Case  Illustrated. — Difficulties  and  Remedies 927 

CIX. 

CONSECRATION*  OF  THE  FIKST  CARDINAL  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES. — 1875. 
The  Venerable  Archbishop  McCIoskey,  of  New  York,  Selected  by  the  Roman  Pontiff,  for  this 
Great  Office. — He  becomes  a  Prince  in  the  Church. — The  Highest  Ecclesiastical  Appointment 
in  the  Catholic  Hierarchy. — Reasons  given  for  this  Step. — Solemn  Investiture,  in  the  Cathe- 
drai,  by  Clerical  Dignitaries  from  All  Parts  of  the  Country. — An  Unparalleled  Scene. — Illus 
trious  Nature  of  this  Office. — Special  Envoy  sent  from  Rome. — Announcing  the  Event  to  the 
Archbishop. — Time  of  Public  Recognition  Assigned. — A  Mighty  Stream  of  Humanity. — 
Decorations  of  the  Church. — Procession  of  Priests. — Incensing  the  Altars. — Sacred  Vessels 
and  Vestments. — Insignia  Peculiar  to  this  Rank. — The  Scarlet  Cap. — Profoundly  Impressive 
Service. — Unprecedented  on  this  Continent. — Imposing  the  Berretta. — Intoning  and  (hunting. 
— Official  Letter  from  the  Pope. — Use  of  the  Latin  Language. — Inspiring  Strains  of  Music. — 
Incidents  attending  the  Ceremonial. — Pontifical  Benediction  by  the  Cardinal. — Retirement  of 
the  Celebrants. — Dispersion  of  the  Vast  Throng 934 

CX. 

"MIRACLES  OF  SCIENCE,"  OR  FOUR  XEW  WONDERS  OF  THE  WORLD. — 1876. 
The  Electric  Light,  or  Brilliant  and  Abundant  Illumination  by  Means  of  Electricity. — The 
Telephone,  or  Instantaneous  Articulate  Communication  between  Distant  Points. — The  Pho 
nograph,  or  Talking  Machine,  Reproducing  and  Preserving  Human  Utterances,  whether  of 
Speech  or  Song,  in  all  their  characteristics. — The  Microphone,  or  Prodigious  Magnifier  of 
Sound,  however  Slight  or  Remote. — Splendor  of  the  Electric  Rays. — Former  Inventions  in 
this  Line. — Prof.  Farmer's  Early  Success. — Edison's  Improved  Device. — Its  Special  Charac 
teristics. — Sanguine  Expectations  Entertained. — Interest  Excited  by  the  Telephone.— Enco 
miums  from  English  Sources. — Principles  of  Construction  and  Use.  Simplicity  and  Service- 
ableness. — Tens  of  Thousands  in  Operation. — How  the  Phonograph  was  Developed. — Other 
Inventions  Fairly  Eclipsed — Its  Appearance,  Form,  Outcome. — Words  and  Tones  Recorded. 
— Astonishment  and  Delight. — Its  Five  Chief  Features. — Marvels  of  the  Microphone. — A 
Touch  or  Tick  Audible  for  Miles. — Arrangement  of  the  Apparatus. — Curious  Feats  Accom 
plished. — Explanation  of  this  property 915 

CXI. 

CENTENNIAL  COMMEMORATION  OF  THE  BIRTH  OF  THE  REPUBLIC.— 1876. 
Year  of  Jubilee,  Festival,  and  Pageant,  throughout  the  Land.— Prosperity,  Power,  and  Renown 
of  the  Nation.— A  Union  of  Nearly  Forty  Great  Commonwealths  and  Forty  Million  People.— 
Anticipations  of  the  Coming  Anniversary.— Legislation  by  Congress  for  its  Patriotic  Obser 
vance.— A  Grand  Exposition  of  the  Century's  Growth  and  Progress,  the  Principal  Feature 
Decided  Upon.— Vast  Work  of  Preparation.— The  Whole  World  at  Peace,  and  All  Countries 
and  Climes  in  Sympathy  with  the  Republic  and  its  Auspicious  Era.— Ushering  in  the  Year's 
Ceremonials.— Every  City,  Town,  and  Village,  Covered  with  Gay  Streamers  and  Waving 
Flags.— Pomp,  Parade,  and  Universal  Fraternization.— Wondrous  Microcosm  of  Civilization 
Concentrated  at  Philadelphia.— The  Culminating  Art  and  Skill  of  Sixty  Centuries  of  Human 
Advancement,  and  the  Products  of  Every  Quarter  of  the  Globe,  Displayed  in  Their  Richest 
Illustrations.— An  Unprecedented  Scene :  President  and  Emperor  Receiving  the  Salutations 
of  the  American  People.— Oratory,  Music,  Poetry,  Bells,  Illuminations,  Cannon,  Regattas, 
Banners,  Hallelujahs,  and  Huzzas.— The  Beauty,  Utility,  and  Magnificence  of  the  Orient  and 
Occident,  in  Boundless  Combinations.— The  "  Glorious  Fourth,"  All  Over  the  Land.— Con 
gratulatory  Letter  from  the  Emperor  of  Germany 918 


I. 

MOMENTOUS  POLITICAL  EVENTS  OF  ABSORBING  INTEREST. 

1776. — DECLARATION  OF  AMERICAN  INDEPENDENCE. 
Birth  of  the  Nation. 

1785. — FIRST  MINISTER  FROM  THE  UNITED  STATES  TO  ENGLAND. 
John  Adams  and   Old  King   George  Face  to  Face. 

1786. — SHAYS'S  REBELLION  IN  MASSACHUSETTS. 

Armed  Defiance  of  State  and  Federal  Laws. 

1787. — FORMATION  AND  ADOPTION  OF  THE  FEDERAL  CONSTITUTION. 

The  United  States  no  longer  an   Unorganized  Nation. 

1789. — ELECTION  AND  INAUGURATION    OF  A  PRESIDENT  OF  THE   UNITED   STATES. 
Unanimous  Choice  of  George  Washington. 

1794. — THE  FAMOUS  WHISKEY  INSURRECTION  IN  PENNSYLVANIA. 

Resistance  to  the  United  States  Excise  Tax. 

1799. — FOUNDING  OF  WASHINGTON  CITY,  THE  NATIONAL  CAPITAL. 

Establishment  of  the  Government  in  that  City. 

1806. — CONSPIRACY  AND  TRIAL  OF  AARON  BURR. 
His  Scheme  of  Conquest  and  Empire. 

1826. — FIFTIETH  ANNIVERSARY  OF  THE  DECLARATION  OF  INDEPENDENCE. 
A  Jubilee  throughout  the  Land. 

1826. — DEATH  OF  EX-PRESIDENTS  JOHN  ADAMS  AND  THOMAS  JEFFERSON, 
On  the  Fourth  of  July,  the  Nation's  Half -Centenary. 


50  TOPICAL  OR  CLASSIFIED  LIST. 

1830. — THE  "GREAT  DEBATE"  BETWEEN  SENATORS  WEBSTER  AND  HAYNE. 
Known  as  "the  Battle  of  the  Giants." 

1832. — NULLIFICATION  OUTBREAK  IN  SOUTH  CAROLINA,  UNDER  CALHOUN,  McDur- 
FIE,  AND  OTHERS. 
The  Wrath  of  President  Jackson  Aroused. 

1836. — STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  RIGHT  OF  PETITION  IN  CONGRESS. 

John  Quincy  Adams's  Eleven  Days'  Dramatic  Conflict,  Single- Handed. 

1837. — PASSAGE  OF  THE  FAMOUS  EXPUNGING  RESOLUTION,  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES 
SENATE. 
Memorable  Parliamentary  Scene  at  Midnight. 

1842. — REBELLION  IN  RHODE  ISLAND,  UNDER  THOMAS  W.  DORR. 
Popular  Suffrage  and  Political  Equality  Demanded. 

1844. — ANTI-RENT  OR  "BARN-BURNING"  AGITATION  IN  NEW   YORK. 
Terrible  Violence  by  Persons  Disguised  as  Indians. 

1851. — REIGN  OF  THE  VIGILANCE  COMMITTEE  IN  CALIFORNIA. 
Sudden  Seizure  and  Punishment  of  Criminals. 

1S52. — EXPEDITION  TO  JAPAN,  UNDER  COMMODORE  PERRY. 
The  Ports  of  that  Entire  Unsealed  to  America. 

1858. — POLITICAL  DEBATE  BETWEEN  LINCOLN  AND  DOUGLAS. 
One  of  the  Most  Remarkable  Oratorical  Contests. 

1859. — JOHN  BROWN  AT  HARPER'S  FERRY. 
A  Bold  Scheme  to  Free  the  Slaves. 

1860. — GRAND  EMBASSY  FROM  THE  EMPIRE  OF  JAPAN. 

First  Ambassadors  Ever  Sent  From  that  Country. 

1863.— CHAMPIONSHIP    OF    AMERICA'S    CAUSE    IN    ENGLAND,  BY    HENRY    WARD 
BKECHER. 

He  Wrestles,  Victoriously,  with  Vast  and  Tumultuous  Mobs. 

1863. — PROCLAMATION  OF  EMANCIPATION. 

Pronounced,  by  President   Lincoln,   "  the  Great  Event  of  the  Nineteenth 
Century" 

1870.— ENFRANCHISEMENT,  BY  CONSTITUTIONAL    AMENDMENT,  OF    THE  COLORED 
RACE. 

Equality  of  All  Men  before  the  Law. 

1872. — THE  GRANGE  MOVEMENT  AT  THE  WEST. 

Popular  Organizations  in  the  Interests  of  Labor. 

1876.— ONE  HUNDREDTH  BIRTHDAY  OF  THE  AMERICAN  REPUBLIC. 
Uitioersal  Jubilee  throughout  the  Land. 


TOPICAL  OR  CLASSIFIED  LIST.  51 


II. 

BATTLES,   SIEGES,   INSURRECTIONS,   AND  OTHER  MILITARY 

OCCURRENCES. 

1777. — CAPITULATION  OF  GENERAL  BUKGOYNE  TO  GENERAL  GATES. 
First  Royal  Army  Ever  Surrendered  to  American. 

1780. — TREASON  OF  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

Plot  to  Deliver  West  Point  to  the  British. 

1781. — SURRENDER  OF  LORD  CORNWALLIS  TO  GENERAL  WASHINGTON. 
Final  Catastrophe  to  British  Arms  in  America. 

1783. — ADIEU  TO  THE  ARMY  BY  GENERAL  WASHINGTON. 

Resigns  his  Great  Commission  and  Returns  his  Sword  to  Congress. 

1786. — FIRST  ORGANIZED  REBELLION  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES. 
Led  by  Daniel  Shays,  of  Massachusetts. 

1791. — GREATEST  BATTLES  WITH  THE  INDIANS. 

St.  Glair's  Defeat :    Wayne's  Victory. 

1794. — WHISKEY  INSURRECTION  IN  PENNSYLVANIA. 

Subdued  by  General  Henry  Lee. 

1803. — CHASTISEMENT  OF  THE  BARBARY  POWERS. 

Humiliation  of  Morocco,  Algiers,  Tunis,  and  Tripoli. 

1806. — BURR'S  MILITARY  EXPEDITION  TO  THE  SOUTH-WEST. 
His  Schemes  of  Conquest  and  Empire. 

1813. — HARRISON'S  VICTORY  AT  THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  THAMES. 
Death  of  Tecumseh. 

1814. — CONQUEST  AND  BURNING  OF  WASHINGTON,  BY  THE  BRITISH. 
Flight  of  President  Madison. 

1815. — JACKSON'S  TERRIBLE  ROUT  OF  THE  BRITISH  AT  NEW  ORLEANS. 
Sudden  and  Decisive  Close  of  the  War. 

1842. — REBELLION  IN  RHODE  ISLAND,  UNDER  THOMAS  W.  DORR. 
The  Two  Great  Political  Parties  Arm  and  Take  the  Field. 

1847. — GENERAL  TAYLOR'S  VICTORIOUS  CAMPAIGN  IN  MEXICO. 
Palo  Alto,  Resaca  de  la  Palma,  Buena    Vista,  Etc. 

1847. — GENERAL  SCOTT  IN  THE  HALLS  OF  THE  MONTEZUMAS. 

First  Foreign  Capital  Ever  Occupied  by  a  United  States  Army. 


52  TOPICAL  OR  CLASSIFIED  LIST. 

1859. — JOHN  BROWN'S  SEIZURE  OF  HARPER'S  FERRY. 
Jfia  Capture,  Trial,  and  Execution, 

1861. — BOMBARDMENT  AND  REDUCTION  OP  FORT  SUMTER. 

Inauguration  of  the  Great  Civil  War  in  the  United  States. 

1861. — DISASTROUS  DEFEAT  OF  THE  UNION  ARMY,  AT  BULL  RUN,  VA. 
First  Important  Engagement  in  the  War  of  the  Rebellion. 

1862. — BATTLE  OF  ANTIETAM,  MD. 

Bloodiest  Day  Ever  Known  in  America. 

1863. — SURRENDER  OF  VICKSBURG,  "THE  GIBRALTAR  OF  THE  MISSISSIPPI." 

37,000  Prisoners,  15  Generals,  and  Anns  for  60,000  Men,  the  Trophies. 

1863. — THREE  DAYS'  BATTLE  AT  GETTYSBURG,  PA. 

A  Decisive  Union  Victory,  of  Supreme  Importance. 

1864. — SHERMAN'S  MARCH  THROUGH  THE  HEART  OF  THE  SOUTH. 
Display  of  Military  Genius  Unsurpassed  in  any  Age. 

1865. — FALL    OF    RICHMOND,  AND    SURRENDER    OF    GENERAL    LEE    TO    GENERAL 
GRANT. 

Overthroiv  of  the  Four  Years'  Gigantic  Rebellion. 

1865. — RE-POSSESSION  OF  FORT  SUMTER. 

The  Old  Flag  Kaiseil  Again  on  its  Battlements. 


HI. 

BRILLIANT  NAVAL  ENGAGEMENTS  AND  HEROIC  EXPLOITS. 

1779. — CAPTURE  OF  THE  SHIP-OF-WAR  SERAPIS,  BY  JOHN  PAUL  JONES. 
First  American  Naval  Victor)/. 

1804. — BOMBARDMENT  OF  TRIPOLI. 

The  Proud  Corsair  Flag  Strikes  to  the  Stars  and  Stripes. 

1812.— FIGHT   BETWEEN  THE  FRIGATES  CONSTITUTION  AND  GUERRIERE. 
The  British  Colors  Struck  to  "  Old  Ironsides." 

1812.— WONDERFUL   ESCAPE   OF    THE   FRIGATE  CONSTITUTION   FROM   A   BRITISH 
FLEET. 

Splendid  Naval  Tactics  of  the  Americans. 

1813. — PERRY'S  VICTORY  ON  LAKE  ERIE. 

First  Squadron  Fight  between  England  and  America. 


TOPICAL  OK  CLASSIFIED  LIST.  53 

1814. — MCDONOUGH'S  VICTORY  ON  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 

Seventeen  British  Ensigns  Disappear  in  Two  Hsurs. 

1862. — EXTRAORDINARY  COMBAT  BETWEEN  THE  MERRIMAC  AND  MONITOR. 

Total  Revolution  in  Naval  Warfare. 

1864. — ENGAGEMENT   BETWEEN  THE  KEARSARGE  AND  ALABAMA. 

Sinking  of  the  Alabama  after  a  Brilliant  Contest  of  One  Hour. 

1864. — HEROIC  ACHIEVEMENTS  OF  ADMIRALS  FARRAGUT  AND  PORTER. 
New  Orleans  and  Mobile  the  Scenes  of  their  Exploits. 

1865. — BRILLIANT  CAPTURE    OF   FORT   FISHER,  N.  C.,  BY  ADMIRAL   PORTER  AND 
GENERAL  TERRY. 

Pronounced,  by  Gen.  Grant,  one  of  the  Great  Successes  that  Ended  the  War. 


IV. 
SUPEEB    ACHIEVEMENTS    OF    OEATOEY. 

1830. — THE    GREAT    DEBATE    BETWEEN   WEBSTER    AND    HAYNE,  IN    THE  UNITED 
STATES  SENATE. 
Known  as  "  The  Battle  of  The  Giants." 

1836. — STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  EIGHT  OF  PETITION  IN  CONGRESS. 

John  Quincy  Adams's  Dramatic  Contest,  Single-Handed,  for  Eleven  Days. 

1858 — POLITICAL  DEBATE  BETWEEN  LINCOLN  AND  DOUGLAS. 

One  of  the  Most  Remarkable  Oratorical  Contests. 

1863. — CHAMPIONSHIP  OF  AMERICA'S  CAUSE  IN  ENGLAND,  BY  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 
He  Wrestles,  Victoriously,  with  Vast  and  Tumultuous  Mobs. 


V. 

CELEBEATED   CRIMINAL    CASES    AND    TEIALS,    TEAGEDIES,    MUTI 
NIES,  DUELS,   CONSPIEACIES,  ETC. 

1870. — TREASON  OF  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

Darkest  Deed  of  Infamy  during  the  Revolutionary  War. 

1804. — FATAL  DUEL  BETWEEN  VICE-PRESIDENT  BURR  AND  ALEXANDER  HAMILTON. 

Hamilton  Falls,  Mortally  Wounded. 

1806. — AARON  BURR'S  TRIAL  FOR  HIGH  TREASON. 

August  Judicial  Scene. 


54  TOPICAL  OR  CLASSIFIED  LIST. 

1826. — DUEL  BETWEEN  HENRY  CLAY  AND  JOHN  RANDOLPH. 
Two  Shots,  and  a  Reconciliation. 

1831. — CAPTURE  AND  EXECUTION  OF  GIBBS,  THE  NOTED  PIRATE. 

Known  as  "  the  Scourge  of  the  Ocean  "  and  the  Enemy  of  Mankind. 

1835. — ATTEMPT  TO  ASSASSINATE  PRESIDENT  JACKSON    IN  THE    UNITED  STATES 
CAPITOL. 
The  Perpetrator,  Richard  Laivrence,  Proves  to  be  a  Lunatic. 

1838. — BARBAROUS  DUEL    BETWEEN  HONS.  W.  J.  GRAVES  AND   JONATHAN  GIL- 
LEY,  MEMBERS  OF  CONGRESS. 
Cilley  Slain  at  the  Third  Firing. 

1841. — COLD-BLOODED  MURDER  OF  SAMUEL  ADAMS  BY  JOHN  C.  COLT,  IN   NEW 
YORK. 

One  of  the  Most  Celebrated  of  Modern   Crimes. 

1842. — MUTINY  ON  BOARD  THE  UNITED  STATES  BRIG-OF-WAR  SOMERS. 
Hanging  of  Spencer  and  Other  Ringleaders  from  the  Yard-arm. 

1849. — ASTOR  PLACE  OPERA-HOUSE  RIOTS,  NEW  YORK. 

Feud  between  the  Two  Great  Tragedians,  Forrest  and  Macready. 

1849. — MURDER  OF  DR.  GEORGE   PARKMAN,  A   BOSTON   MILLIONAIRE,  BY  PROF. 
J.  W.  WEBSTER,  OF  HARVARD  COLLEGE. 
Intense  Interest  in  this  Case,  in  both  Hemispheres. 

1851. — REIGN  OF  THE  VIGILANCE  COMMITTEE  IN  CALIFORNIA. 
Swift  and  Terrible  Dealings  with  Criminals. 

1856. — ASSAULT  ON    HON.  CHARLES    SUMNER,  IN    THE  UNITED   STATES    SENATE 
CHAMBER,  BY  P.  S.  BROOKS. 

Twenty  Hard  and  Rapid  Blows  on  the  Senator's  Bare  Head. 

1859. — FATAL  DUEL  BETWEEN  HON.  D.  C.  BRODERICK,  UNITED  STATES  SENATOR 
FROM  CALIFORNIA,  AND  CHIEF  JUSTICE  TERRY. 
Broderick  Mortally  Wounded  ;  His  Speedy  Death. 

1860. — WALKER'S  FILIBUSTERING  EXPEDITIONS. 
His  Retreat,  Capture  and  Execution. 

1865. — ASSASSINATION  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN,  PRESIDENT  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES. 
The  Most  Exalted  and  Beloved  of  Mortal  Rulers. 

1865. — TRIAL  OF  THE  ASSASSINATION  CONSPIRATORS. 
Their  Swift  and  Awful  Dnom. 


TOPICAL  OR  CLASSIFIED  LIST.  55 

VI. 
WONDERFUL  PHENOMENA  OF  THE    EARTH,  OCEAN,  AND  HEAVENS. 

1780. — MYSTERIOUS  DARK  DAY  IN  THE  NORTHERN  STATES. 
The  End  of  the  World  Supposed  to  be  at  Hand. 

1806. — GREATEST  TOTAL  SOLAR  ECLIPSE  EVER  KNOWN. 

Five  Minutes  Total  Obscuration  at  Noonday. 

1811. — DESOLATING  EARTHQUAKE  AT  THE  WEST. 

All  Over  the  Mississippi  to  the  Atlantic  Coast. 

1815. — THE  EVER-MEMORABLE  SEPTEMBER  GALE. 

Unparalleled  Since  the  Settlement  of  the  Country. 

1833. — SUBLIME  METEORIC  SHOWER  ALL  OVER  THE  UNITED  STATES. 
The  Whole  Firmament  in  Fiery  Commotion  for  Several  Hours. 

1837. — MAGNIFICENT  AURORA  BOREALIS  COVERING  THE  WHOLE  HEAVENS. 

Visible  All  Night  to  Millions  of  Observers. 

1843. — APPEARANCE  or  A  FIERY  COMET  AT  MID-DAY. 

It  Sweeps  through  the  Sky,  in  Plain  Sight,  for  Several  Weeks. 

1851. — VISIT  OF  THE  MARINE    MONSTER,  CALLED  THE  SEA-SERPENT,  ALONG  THE 
ATLANTIC  COAST. 
Accounts  Given  by  Eye-Witnesses. 

1868. — DISASTROUS  EARTHQUAKES  IN  CALIFORNIA. 

Lives  Lost  and  Property  Destroyed,  in  '65  and  '68. 

1869. — TOTAL  ECLIPSE  OF  THE  SUN. 

Most  Interesting  and  Important  Observations  of  the  Phenomenon  Ever  Made. 


VII. 

EXTRAORDINARY  DISCOVERIES  AND  INVENTIONS,  SCIENTIFIC  EX 
PEDITIONS,  AND  THE  SPLENDID  TRIUMPHS  OF  MECHANICAL 
GENIUS. 

1793. — WHITNEY'S  GREAT  COTTON-GIN  INVENTION. 

Revolution  in  the  Prospects  and  Power  of  the  South. 

1807. — FULTON'S  APPLICATION  OF  STEAM  TO  NAVIGATION. 

First  Steam-boat  Voyage  on  American  Waters. 


56  TOPICAL  OR  CLASSIFIED  LIST. 

1835. — MORSE'S  INVENTION  OF  THE  ELECTRIC  TELEGRAPH. 
The  Scientific  Miracle  of  the  Aye. 

1838. — EXPLORING  EXPEDITION  TO  THE  SOUTH  SEAS,  UNDER  COMMODORE  WILKES. 
Discovery  of  the  Great  Antarctic  Continent. 

1842. — FREMONT'S  EXPLORATION  OF  THE  FAR  NORTH-WEST. 

Plants  the  American  Flagon  the  11 iff/test  Peak  of  the  Rocky  Mountains. 

1846. — DISCOVERY  OF  PAINLESS  SURGERY  BY  THE  INHALATION  OF  ETHER. 

Most  Beneficent  Boon  to  Humanity  Ever  Conferred  by  Science. 

1846. — INVENTION  OF  THAT  WONDROUS  MECHANISM,  THE  SEWING  MACHINE. 
Romantic  Genius  and  Perseverance  of  tit  e  Inventor. 

1847. — EXPEDITION  TO  THE  JORDAN  AND  DEAD  SEA,  UNDER  LIEUTENANT  LYNCH. 
The  "  Sea  of  Death"11  Explored,  Sounded,  and  its  Mysteries  Solved. 

1848. — DISCOVERY  OF  GOLD  AT  SUTTER'S  MILL,  CALIFORNIA. 
California  Becomes  the  El  Dorado  of  the  World. 

1850. — GRINNELL  EXPEDITIONS  TO   THE  ARCTIC  SEAS. 
Doctor  Kane  Discovers  an  Open  Polar  Sea. 

1851. — VICTORY  OF  THE  YACHT  AMERICA,  IN  THE  INTERNATIONAL  RACE  AT  COWES. 
She  Wins  "  The  Cup  of  all  Nations." 

1852. — EXPEDITION  TO  JAPAN,  UNDER  COMMODORE  PERRY. 
Opening  of  that  Empire  to  American  Intercourse. 

1853. — EXHIBITION  OF  THE  INDUSTRY  OF  ALL  NATIONS,  IN  NEW  YORK. 
Splendid  Display  of  the  Arts  and  Treasures  of  Civilization. 

1859. — THIRTY  THOUSAND  MILES  OF  RAILWAY  IN  THIRTY  YEARS,  AND  80,000  IN 
HALF  A  CENTURY. 

Widespread  Social  and  Business  Revolution  Produced. 

1859. — PETROLEUM  EXCITEMENT  IN  PENNSYLVANIA. 

Discovery  of  Vast   Quantities  of  Illuminating    Oil  in  the  Depths   of  the 
Earth. 

1860. — EXHIBITION,  IN  NEW  YORK,  OF  THE  MAMMOTH  STEAMSHIP  GREAT  EASTERN. 
Largest  Vessel  Ever  Built. 

1863. — INAUGURATION  OF  THE  GREAT  ORGAN  IN  BOSTON. 
sf  Majestic  and  Perfect  Instrument  in  America. 


TOPICAL  OR  CLASSIFIED  LIST.  57 

1866. — SUCCESSFUL  LAYING  OF  THE  ATLANTIC  TELEGRAPH  CABLE. 

The  Grandest  of  Human  Enterprises. 

1869. — COMPLETION  AND  OPENING  OF  THE  PACIFIC  RAILROAD. 
Junction  of  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  Ocean. 

1876. — THE  "MIRACLES  OF  SCIENCE,"  OR  FOUR  NEW  WONDERS  OF  THE  WORLD. 
The  Electric  Light — the  Telephone — the  Phonograph — the  Microphone. 


VIII. 

REMARKABLE   REFORMS,    DELUSIONS,  AND   EXCITEMENTS,  IN   THE 
MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  WORLD,  ETC. 

1830. — FOUNDING  OF  THE  MORMON  CHURCH  BY  JOSEPH  SMITH. 
Origin,  Character,  and  Progress. 

1840. — "  WASHINGTONIAN  "  OR  TEMPERANCE  REFORMATION. 
Career  of  Haivkins,  Mitchell,  Gough,  and  Others. 

1843. — EXPECTED  DESTRUCTION  OF  THE  WORLD. 

Rev.  William  Miller's  Second  Advent  Predictions. 

1844. — Two  HUNDRED  YEARS  OF  FREE  POPULAR  EDUCATION. 
Most  Enlightened  and  Successful  System  in  the  World. 

1847. — THE  PHENOMENA  OF  "SPIRITUAL  MANIFESTATIONS." 

Singular  and  Humble  Origin,  and  World-wide  Development. 

1847. — VOYAGE  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES  SHIP-OF-WAR   JAMESTOWN,  WITH  FOOD 
FOR  IRELAND. 
First  War  Vessel  Ever  Sent  on  Such  a  Mission  of  Mercy. 

1849. — VISIT  OF  FATHER  MATHEW,  THE  APOSTLE  OF  TEMPERANCE. 
His  600,000  American  Converts  to  Total  Abstinence. 

1857. — THE  "GREAT  AWAKENING"  IN  THE  RELIGIOUS  WORLD. 

Known,  as  the  American  Pentecost. 


58  TOPICAL  OR  CLASSIFIED  LIST. 

1863.— PROCLAMATION  OF  EMANCIPATION-  TO  THE  SLAVES. 
Millions  of  Slaves  Declared  to  be  Forever  Free. 

1875-6.— THE  POPULAR  REVIVAL  MOVEMENT  UNDER  MESSRS.  MOODY  AND  SANKEY. 
Great  Success  of  these  Earnest  and  Devoted  Evangelists. 

1875. CONSECRATION  OF  THE  FIRST  CARDINAL  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES. 

Archbishop  McCloskey  becomes  a  Prince  in  the  Church. 


IX. 
POPULAR  OVATIONS,  NATIONAL    JUBILEES,  PAGEANTS,  FEATS,  ETC. 

1824. — FAREWELL  VISIT  OF  LAFAYETTE  TO  AMERICA. 
The  Invited  Guest  of  a  Grateful  Republic. 

1826. — CELEBRATION  OF  THE  FIFTIETH  ANNIVERSARY  OF  AMERICAN  INDEPENDENCE. 
Sadden  Death  of  Ex-Presidents  Adams  and  Jefferson,  on  the  Day  of  the 
Jubilee. 

1849. — TOUR  OF  FATHER  MATIIEW,  THE  APOSTLE  OF  TEMPERANCE. 
A  Joyous  Welcome  Extended  Him,  Throughout  the  Land. 

1850. — BRILLIANT  MUSICAL  TOUR  OF  JENNY  LIND. 

A  Whole  Continent  Enchanted  with  Her  Melodies. 

1851. — RECEPTION  OF  Gov.  KOSSUTH,  OF  HUNGARY. 
Enthusiastic  and  Multiplied  Ovations. 

1858. — MORPHY'S  MARVELOUS  CHESS  TRIUMPHS. 

Vanquishes  the  Most  Renowned  Players  in  Europe  and  America. 

1860. — GRAND  EMBASSY  FROM  THE  EMPIRE  OF  JAPAN. 

Curious  and  Extraordinary  Tour  to  the  Great  Cities. 

1860. — ARRIVAL  AND  TOUR  OF  THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES,  ENGLAND'S  FUTURE  KING. 
Received  with  Magnificent  Honors  and  Hospitalities,  as  the  Nations  Guest- 

1861. — RAREY'S  ASTONISHING  FEATS  OF  HORSE-TAMING. 
Wonder  and  Admiration  from  Crowded  Audiences. 

1863. — INAUGURATION  OF  THE  COLOSSAL  ORGAN  IN  BOSTON. 
The  Masterpiece  of  Modern  Musical  Art. 

1869. — NATIONAL  PEACE  JUBILEE  AND  MUSICAL  FESTIVAL. 

Ten  Thousand  Singers,  and  an  Orchestra  of  One  Thousand  Players. 

1871. — JOURNEY  OVER  THE  LAND,  OF  THE  DUKE  ALEXIS,  OF  RUSSIA. 
Snn  of  the  Emperor  Alexander. 


TOPICAL  OR  CLASSIFIED  LIST.  59 

1874. — VISIT  OF  KING  KALAKAUA,  OF  THE  SANDWICH  ISLANDS. 

First  Instance  of  a  Reigning  Crowned  Head  entering  the  United  States. 

1876. — ONE  HUNDREDTH  BIRTHDAY  OF  THE  AMERICAN  REPUBLIC. 
Universal,  Jubilee  Throughout  the  Land. 


X. 

APPALLING  PUBLIC  CALAMITIES,  DISASTERS,  PANICS,  ETC. 

1799. — DEATH    OF   GEORGE   WASHINGTON,    THE   FATHER   OF   HIS    COUNTRY,    AND 
AMERICA'S  MOST  ILLUSTRIOUS  CITIZEN. 

The  Whole  World  Does  Honor,  by  Eulogy  and  Lamentations,  to  His  Exalted 
Worth  and  Immortal  Fame. 

1811. — DESOLATING  EARTHQUAKE  AT  THE  WEST. 
All  Along  the  Valley  of  the  Mississippi. 

1815. — THE  EVER-MEMORABLE  SEPTEMBER  GALE. 

Unparalleled  Since  the  Settlement  of  the  Country. 

1835. — TREMENDOUS  FIRE  IN  NEW  YORK,  IN  THE  RICHEST  LOCALITY  IN  AMERICA. 
700  Richly  Filled  Warehouses  laid  in  Ashes,  in  the  Dead  of  Winter. 

1844. — EXPLOSION  ON  BOARD  THE  UNITED  STATES  STEAMER  PRINCETON. 
The  Secretaries  of  State  and  the  Navy  Instantly  Killed. 

1849. — ASTOR-PLACE  OPERA-HOUSE  RIOTS,  NEW  YORK. 
A  Mob  of  20,000  Men :  Lamentable  Loss  of  Life. 

1849. — AWFUL  VISITATIONS  OF  THE  "ANGEL  OF  DEATH." 

Yellow  Fever  and  Cholera  Scourges,  at  Different  Periods. 

1851. — FRIGHTFUL  PANIC  IN  A  N.  Y.  SCHOOL  OF  EIGHTEEN  HUNDRED  PUPILS. 
Scores  of  Children  Suffocated  to  Death. 

1854. — Loss  OF  THE  SPLENDID  COLLINS  STEAMSHIP  ARCTIC. 

Collision  with  Steamer  Vesta,  in  Mid-Ocean,  at  Noonday,  in  a  Dense  Fog. 

1857. — FOUNDERING  OF  THE  STEAMER  CENTRAL  AMERICA. 

More  than  400  Lives  Lost,  and  $2,000,000  in  Treasure. 

1857. — TERRIBLE  CRISIS  IN  THE  BUSINESS  AND  FINANCIAL  WORLD. 
Known  as  "  the  Great  Panic." 

1858. — BURNING  OF  THE  STEAMSHIP  AUSTRIA. 
Near/I/  500  Lives  Lost. 


60  TOPICAL  OR  CLASSIFIED  LIST. 

I860. — FALL  OF  THE  PEMBERTON  MILLS,  IN  LAWRENCE,  MASS. 
Nearly  1,000  Persons  Buried  in  the  Ruins. 

18G5. — ASSASSINATION  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN,  PRESIDENT  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES. 
Darkest  Pftye  in  the  History  of  the  Nation. 

18G8. — DISASTROUS  EARTHQUAKE  IN  CALIFORNIA. 

Severe  and  Repeated  Shocks  Over  a  Wide  Extent. 

I860. AVONDALE    COLLIERF    DISASTER,    IN    PENNSYLVANIA. 

More  than  100  Suffocated  in  the  Mines. 

1871. — BURNING  OF  CHICAGO, -ILL.,  THE  COMMERCIAL  METROPOLIS  OF  THE  NORTH 
WEST. 

73  Miles  of  Streets,  with  17,450  Buildings,  Destroyed. 

1872. — TERRIBLE  FIRE  IN  THE  BUSINESS  HEART  OF  BOSTON. 

The  Great  Financial  and  Mercantile  Center  oj  New  England  Consumed. 


NO.  SUBJECT.  PA 

1.  ILLUSTRATED   GILT   AND    COLORED    TITLE- 

PAGE. 

2.  SIGNING  THE  DECLARATION  OF   INDEPEND 

ENCE  (FRONTISPIECE). 

3.  Glory  of  the  American  Century,        - 

4.  The  Opened  Pages,      ------ 

5.  The  Record  of  Time,    ------ 

6.  Symbolical  Head-piece,       - 

7.  Genius  of  Art,      ------- 

8.  Ringing  of  ihe  Bell,  July  4th,  1776,    -        -       - 

9.  Hall  of  Independence,  Philadelphia,  1776, 

10.  Gates's  Head-quarters,       - 

11.  General  Burgoyne;  Portrait  and  Autograph,   - 

12.  General  Gates;  Portrait  and  Autograph, 

13.  CAPITULATION  OF  BUP.GOYNE'S  ARMY,  - 

14.  Hoisting  First  Naval  Flag,  ----- 

15.  John  Paul  Jones;  Portrait  and  Autograph,      - 
36.  FIRST  AMERICAN  NAVAL  VICTORY, 

17.-  WONDERFUL  DARK  DAY,  MAY  19, 1780,  - 

18.  Traveling  during  the  Dark  Day,        - 

19.  Change  of  Scene  after  the  Dark  Day, 

20.  Price  of  Arnold's  Treason,  ... 

21.  Capture  of  Andre.       ------ 

22.  Benedict  Arnold;  Portrait  and  Autograph, 

23.  West  Point  in  1780, 

24.  General  Arnold's  Head-quarters,      - 

25.  The  House  where  Corn  wallis  Surrendered, 

26.  CORNWALLIS'S   SURRENDER.       -  -          -          - 

27.  Corn  wallis;  Portrait  and  Autograph, 

28.  Washington's  Sword,  ------ 

29.  The  Washington  Kim,  Cambridge,  Mass., 

30.  WASHINGTON'S  RESIGNATION,         - 

31.  Amity  between  England  and  America, 

32.  George  the  Third;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    - 

33.  FIRST  MINISTER  TO  ENGLAND,— RECEPTION 

OF  JOHN  ADAMS,  ------ 

34.  John  Adams;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    - 


GE. 

NO. 

SUBJECT.                                             PAGE 

35. 

Scene  in  Shays's  Rebellion,        - 

125 

35. 

SHAYS'  s  FORCES  IN  MASSACHUSETTS,    - 

127 

37. 

Daniel  Shays;  Portrait  and  Autograph,   - 

128 

7 

38. 
39. 

General  Lincoln  ;  Portrait  and  Autograph, 

130 

16 

40. 

CONVENTION  AT  PHILADELPHIA,  1787,   - 

134 

17 

41. 

Franklin  Pleading  for  Pacification,  -        -        - 

136 

49 

42. 

Washington's  Inauguration  Bible,    -       -       - 

139 

Gl 

43. 

FIKST  INAUGURATION  OF  A  PRESIDENT, 

141 

C5 

44. 

Presidential  Mansion,  1789,         - 

143 

07 

45. 

PreMdential  Mansion,  1876,        - 

143 

72 

46. 

Treating  with  the  Indians,  -       - 

146 

74 

47. 

WAYNE'S  DEFEAT  OF  THE  INDIANS, 

148 

74 

48. 

Anthony  Wayne;  Portrait  and  Autograph,     - 

150 

77 

49. 

General  St.  Clair;  Portrait  and  Autograph,     - 

151 

81 

50. 

"Little  Turtle";  Portrait,         - 

152 

83 

51. 

Results  of  the  Cotton-Gin,         -        -       -       - 

153 

84 

52. 

ELI  WHITNEY'S  COTTON-GIN,  1793, 

155 

88 

53. 

Eli  Whitney;  Portrait  and  Autogra/ih,     - 

157 

89 

54. 

Causes  of  the  Whiskey  Insurrection  in  Penn- 

ICO 

93 

97 

55. 

Famous  Whiskey  Insurrection  in  Pennsylvania, 

1(51 

99 

5fi. 

David  Bradford  ;  Portrait,          -        -        -        - 

164 

100 

57. 

General  Henry  Lee;  Portrait,  -        -        - 

166 

101 

58. 

WASHINGTON,  D.  C.,  IN  1876,     - 

171 
172 

102 
104 

59. 
60. 

Symbolic  Statue  of  America,  Surmounting  the 

TT      O      /'           '«      1 

172 

106 
110 

61. 

Martha  Washington  :  Portrait  and  Autograph, 

175 

112 

62. 

DEATH  OF  WASHINGTON.  DECEMBER  14,  1799, 

177 

114 

63. 

George  Washington,  as  Colonel,         - 

178 

115 

64. 

George  Washington,  General  U.  S.  A., 

179 

119 

65. 

George  Washington,  President  of  the  United 

120 

States;  Portrait,  and  Autograph,    - 

179 

66. 

. 

180 

Tomb  of  Washington, 

.      .                 . 

182 

122 
123 

67. 
68. 

U.  a.  Irinuteto  isartiary,    - 
Commodore  Dale  ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,     - 

183 

G2 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


BO.  SUBJECT. 

69.  Commodore  Preble ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    184 

70.  Commodore  Bainbridge  ;   Portrait  and  Auto 

graph,      -------- 

71.  Burning  of  the  Philadelphia,  -       -       -       - 

72.  Commodore    Decatur  ;    Portrait   and    Auto 

graph,      

73.  BOMBARDMENT  OF  TRIPOLI,  -       -       -       - 

74.  Monument  to  Alexander  Hamilton, 

75.  Alexander  Hamilton ;  Portrait  and  Autograph, 

76.  Aaron  Burr;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    - 

77.  SCENE  OF  THE  BURR  AND  HAMILTON  DUEL, 

WEKHAWKEN,       ------ 

78.  TOTAL  SOLAR  ECLIPSE,  IN  1806,     - 

79.  Progress  of  the  Solar  Eclipse,  -        -       -       - 

80.  TOTAL  ECLIPSE,  IN  I8f>9,  -       -       -       -       - 

81.  Eclipse,  as  seen  in  Brazil,        -       -       -       - 

82.  Burr's  Flight, 

83.  BREAKING  DP  OF  BURR'S  EXPEDITION, 

8t.  Burr  and  His  Deluded  Followers,     -        -        - 

85.  Theodosia;  Portrait  aiul  Autograph, 

86.  First  Steam  boat  on  the  Hudson,    -        -       - 

87.  Robert  Fulton ;  Portrait  and  Autograph, 

88.  FULTON'S  FIRST  STEAM  BOAT,       - 

89.  After  the  Earthquake,      - 

90.  Scene  of  the  Great  Earthquake  in  the  West, 

91.  EARTHQUAKE  SCENE  IN  SAN  FRANCISCO,  - 

92.  Captain  Hull;  Portrait,    -        -        -       -       - 

93.  ACTION  BETWEEN  THE  FRIGATES  CONSTI 

TUTION  AND  GUERRIERE,    -        -        -        - 

91.  Perry's  Flag  on  Lake  Erie,        -       -        -        - 

93.  Commodore  Perry;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  - 

96.  BATTLE  OF  LAKE  ERIE,— PERRY'S  VICTORY, 

97.  General  Harrison  ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -    241 

98.  A  Cloud  on  the  National  Escutcheon, 

9!).  General  Winder;  Portrait  and  Autograph, 

103.  President  Madison;  Portrait,  - 

101.  CAPTURE  AND  BURNING  OF  WASHINGTON 

BY  THE  BRITISH,  IN  1814,   -       -       -       - 

102.  Jack's  Offering  to  his  Country,         - 
10 1.  Commodore  MrDonough ;  Portrait, 

104.  McDoxouGH's  VICTORY  ON  LAKE  CHAM- 

PLAIN,    -------- 

105.  American  Defenses  at  New  Orleans, 

106.  Andrew  Jackson  ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    -    260 

107.  BATTLE   OF   NEW    ORLEANS,—  JACKSON'S 

TERRIFIC  SLAUGHTER  OF  THE  BRITISH, 

108.  Destruction  by  the  Great  Gale  and  Flood, 

109.  The   Ever- Memorable    Gale,   September   23, 

1815,  

110.  Horrors  of  the  Whirlwind  throughout  New 

England,          ------- 

111.  The  Landing  of  Lafayette  at  New  York, 

112.  Lafayette;  Portrait  and  Autograph, 

113.  Sword  of   Honor  Presented  to  Lafayette,    -    276 

114.  Lafayette's  Residence,       -        -  -  277 

115.  Lafayette's  Birthplace,      - 

116.  Laf  iyette'8  Tomb,      -        -        -       -       - 

117.  Preliminaries  of  the  Code  of  Honor, 

118.  Henry  Clay ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,     - 

119.  John  Randolph ;  Portrait  and  Autograph, 

120.  DUELING-GROUND  AT  BLADENSBURO, 

121.  The  Jefferson  Mansion  at  Montlcello,      - 

122.  Thomas  Jefferson;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -    294 

123.  The  Adams  Mansion  at  Quincy,       -        -        -    296 

124.  The  Victor's  Wreath.         -        -        -        - 

125.  Robert  Y.  Hayne ;  Portrait,      - 

126.  <L>anlel  Webster;  Portrait,        ... 

127.  Webster's  Reply  to  Hayne,        - 

128.  Joseph  Smilh;  Portrait  and  Autograph, 

129.  Brigham  Young;  Portrait  and  Autograph, 

130.  Mormon  Temple,  -  312 

131.  SALT  LAKK  CITY,  THE  MORMON  ZION, 


OK. 

NO. 

184 

132. 

184 

133. 

185 

134. 

186 

135. 

187 

136. 

189 

137. 

190 

138. 

190 

139. 

140. 

193 

141. 

197 

198 

142. 

199 

143. 

202 

204 

144. 

208 

14.1. 

208 

146. 

210 

147. 

212 

148. 

213 

215 

149. 

218 

150. 

220 

223 

151. 

227 

152. 

153. 

200 

154. 

234 

2I!6 

155. 

238 

156. 

241 

157. 

242 

158. 

244 

159. 

246 

160. 

247 

250 

161. 

251 

162. 

254 

163. 

257 

164. 

260 

165. 

1C6. 

262 

167. 

264 

168. 

266 

169. 

170. 

2C9 

272 

171. 

274 

172. 

276 

173. 

277 

174. 

279 

281 

175. 

282 

176. 

284 

177. 

286 

178. 

288 

292 

179. 

294 

180. 

2% 

297 

181. 

299 

182. 

301 

304 

183. 

308 

310 

184. 

312 

185. 

213 

186. 

SUBJECT.  PAGE. 

Appeal  of  a  Beautiful  Girl  to  Gibbs  to  Spare 

her  Life,  -                                         -        -        -  314 

Pirate  Gibbs;  Portrait,     -----  316 

GIBBS  BUTCHERING  THE  CREW  OF  ONE  OF 

ins  PRIZES,   -------  3ig 

Favorite  SUte  Emblem,  S.  C.,  -        -       -       -  320 

Old  State-House  at  Columbia,  -        -       -        -322 

George  McDuftie;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  324 
J.  C.  Calhoun;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  326 
METEORIC  SHOWER  AT  BOSTON,  -  329 
Meteoric  Shower,  as  been  at  Niagara  Falls,  -  331 
Remarkable  Meteoric  Display  on  the  Missis 
sippi,  -334 

The  Preservation, 337 

ATTEMPTED  ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT 

JACKSON,        -------  339 

Richard  Lawrence ;  Portrait,  -  341 

Hanjiiiij.r  the  Telegraph  Wire,  -        -        -        -  345 

THE  ORIGINAL  TELEGRAPHIC  INSTRUMENT,  347 

Professor  Morse ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,     -  349 
Orders    of     Glory    Conferred   on    Professor 

Morse,     - -       -  a">l 

View  of  Wall  Street  during  the  Fire,       -       -  355 
THE  GREAT  CONFLAGRATION,  AS  VIEWED 

FROM  COENTIES  SLIP,         -      -       -       -  357 

Ruins  of  the  Merchants'  Exchange,         -        -  360 

Monster  Petition  to  Congress,  ...        -  sr.2 

John  Quincy  Adams;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  364 
JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS    DEFENDING    THE 

RIGHT  OF  PETITION  IN  CONGRESS,  -  -  3T8 
Safe  place  for  the  Key  to  the  Public  Funds,  -  373 
Thomas  H.  Benton ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  375 
Fac  Simile  Copy  of  Expunging  Resolution,  -  377 
Singular  Form  of  Auroral  Arch,  -  -  -  379 
MAGNIFICENT  AURORA  BOREALIS  OF  NO 
VEMBER  13  AND  14,  1837,  -  -  -  -  381 
View  of  the  Aurora  Borealis  In  its  Early 

Stages,  -  -  384 
Captain  Wilkes;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  388 
VIEW  OF  THE  ANTARCTIC  CONTINENT  DIS 
COVERED  BY  COM.  WILKES,  U.  S.  N.  -  390 
Wilkes's  Party  Dealing  with  the  Savages,  -  392 
Effect  of  the  Temperance  Reformation,  -  -  393 
Signing  the  Pledge,  -  -  -  -  -  396 
DISTINGUISHED  TEMPERANCE  ADVOCATES,  399 
Exploring  the  North-west,  -  402 
Planting  American  Flag  on  the  Rocky  Moun 
tains,  by  Fremont,  -----  404 
John  C.  Fremont;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  405 
Fremont  on  his  Great  Exploring  Tour  to  the 

Far  West  and  Rocky  Mountains,  -        -       -  406 

Charter  vs.  Constitution,  -       -                -       -  408 

Thomas  W.  Dorr;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    -  410 

Governor  King;  Portrait  and  Autograph,      -  412 
FINAL    DISPERSION    OF  GOVERNOR  DORR 

AND  ins  FORCES,  -       -       -       -              -  413 

The  Black  Flag, 415 

Captain  McKenzie;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  417 

Philip  Spencer;  Portrait  and  Autograph,       -  419 
HANGING    OF    RINGLEADERS    FROM    THE 

YARD-ARM,    -------  421 

View  of  the  Comet  when  Nearest  the  Earth,  -  427 
APPEARANCE    OF    THE    COMET    IN    FULL 

SPLENDOR,     -       -       -                              -  428 

Telescopic  View  of  the  Comet,         -                -  430 
The  Great  Day  Prophesied  by  the  Second  Ad- 

ventists,  -                       431 

SYMBOLICAL  ILLUSTRATIONS  OF  THE  SEC 
OND  ADVENT  PROPHECIES,         -               -  433 
William  Miller;  Portrait  and  Autograph,       -  437 
Stockton's  Great  Gun,  the   "  Peacemaker,"   -  439 
President  Tyler;  Portrait  and  Autograph,     -  440 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


63 


NO. 

1ST. 
188. 

189. 
190. 

SUBJECT.                                          PAGE. 

Secretary  Gilmer;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -    442 
Explosion  of  the  Great  Gun  on  Board  the 
United  States  Steamship  Princeton,  -       -    443 
Secretary  Upshur;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -    444 
Commodore  Stockton  ;    Portrait  and  Auto- 

NO. 
251. 

252. 
253. 

Of^l 

191. 

448 

Zt>z. 

192. 

Yale  College  in  1784,        - 

449 

255. 

193. 

Old  King's  College,  ------ 

449 

256. 

194. 

1  Ot 

First  Harvard  College,     - 

449 

Itw. 
196. 

Normal  School,  New  York,       - 

450 
451 

257. 

197. 

Yale  College,     ------- 

453 

258. 

198. 

Harvard  College,    ------ 

454 

259. 

199. 

Relieving  Pain  by  the  Use  of  Elher, 

456 

200. 

The  Three  Claimants  of   the   Discovery  of 

260. 

Painless  Surgery,  by  Ether,        - 

458 

261. 

201. 

MONUMENT   ERECTED  IN  HONOR  OF  THE 

262. 

DISCOVERY  OF  ETHER,       - 

462 

202. 

The  Inventor  Toiling  in  His  Garret, 

464 

263. 

203. 

Elias  Howe,  Jr.;  Portrait  and  Autograph, 

466 

264. 

204. 

THE  OLD  AND  NEW:  SEWING  BY  HAND  AND 

2G5. 

MACHINE,      ------- 

468 

205. 

House  in  which  Spiritual  Rappings  Originated, 

472 

206. 

The  Misses  Fox;  Portraits       - 

474 

266. 

207. 

D   D   Home'  Portrait       - 

475 

OCT 

208. 

Cora  L.  V.  Hatch;  Portrait,     -        -       -       - 

477 

-'  >i  * 

209. 

Spiritual  Autograph  of  Lord  Bacon, 

477 

210. 

A.  J.  Davis;  Portrait,       - 

477 

268. 

211. 

Judge  Edmonds;  Portrait,       - 

477 

269. 

212. 

Spiritual  Autograph  of  Swedenborg, 

477 

270. 

213. 

Scene  of  Misery  during  the  Famine, 

479 

271. 

,214. 

Corn  for  the  Land  of  Want  and  Woe,    - 

482 

272. 

'215. 

ARRIVAL  OF  THE  JAMESTOWN  AT  CORK, 

484 

273. 

216. 

THE  STORMING  OF  CHAPULTEPEC, 

487 

274. 

217. 

President  Polk;  Portrait  and  Autograph, 

488 

218. 

General  Taylor;  Portrait  and  Autograph, 

489 

275. 

219. 

Santa  Anna;  Portrait  and  Autograph.    - 

490 

276. 

220. 

General  Scott;  Portrait  and  Autograph, 

491 

277. 

221. 

GENERAL  SCOTT'S  GRAND  ENTRANCE  INTO 

THE  MEXICAN  CAPITAL,     - 

492 

278. 

222. 

Lieutenant  Lynch;   Portrait  and  Autograph, 

496 

279. 

223. 

VALLEY  OF  THE  JORDAN  AND  DEAD  SEA, 

497 

280. 

224. 

Right  Bank  of  the  Dead  Sea,  -       -       -       - 

498 

225. 

Mining  Operations  in  California,    -        -       - 

500 

281. 

226. 

SUTTER'S    MILL,   WHERE    GOLD  WAS  FIRST 

282. 

502 

00  •> 

227. 

228. 

John  A.  Sutter;  Portrait,         - 

503 

ifiOo* 

284. 

229. 

Forrest,  as  Spartacus,       - 

508 

285. 

230. 

Edwin  Forrest;  Portrait  and  Autograph, 

510 

286. 

231. 

W.  C.  Macready;  Portrait  and  Autograph,     - 

511 

232. 

ASTOR  PLACE  OPERA-HOUSE  RIOTS,   - 

513- 

287. 

233. 

Struck  with  the  Cholera,  -        -        -       -       - 

515 

288. 

234. 

MONUMENT  TO  THE  VICTIMS  OF  CHOLERA, 

517 

235. 

Horrors  of  the  Great  Epidemic,      - 

519 

289. 

236. 

Professor  Webster's  Murder  Appliances, 

523 

290. 

237. 

Doctor  Parkman;  Portrait  and  Autograph,   - 

525 

291. 

238. 

Professor  Webster;  Portrait  and  Autograph, 

527 

292. 

239. 

PROFESSOR  WEBSTER'S  CELL  IN  PRISON,  - 

529 

293. 

240. 

Henry  Grinnell;  Portrait  and  Autograph,     - 

534 

294. 

241. 

The  Advance  and  Rescue,        - 

536 

295. 

242. 

Doctor  Kane;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  - 

538 

296. 

243. 

VIEW  OF  THE  ARCTIC  REGIONS,  -       -       - 

539 

297. 

244. 

Jenny  Lind;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    - 

543 

298. 

245. 

P.  T.  Barnum;  Portrait  and  Autograph, 

545 

299. 

246. 

Jenny  Lind's  Appearance  at  Castle  Garden,  - 

547 

300. 

247. 

Double  Execution  in  San  Francisco, 

550 

301. 

248. 

Seal  of  the  California  Vigilance  Committee, 

552 

302. 

249. 

EXECUTIONS  BY  THE  VIGILANCE  COMMIT 

303. 

TEE,  IN  SAN  FRANCISCO,    -       -       -       - 

555 

304. 

250. 

George  Steers;  Portrait,  -        -       -        -       - 

560 

SUBJECT.  PAGE. 

YACHT  AMERICA;  J.  C.  STEVENS,  COMMO 
DORE,      -------        -  562 

"  Cup  of  All  Nations,"  Won  by  the  America,  564 
School-House  on   Greenwich   Avenue,  New 

York,  the  Scene  of  the  Awful  Panic,        -  569 
Frightful  Catastrophe  in  a  Public  School- 
House,  New  York,        -----  571 

Monster  Sea-Serpent  at  Full  Length,     -       -  575 
APPEARANCE  OF  THE  HUGE  SEA-SERPENT 

ALONG  THE  ATLANTIC  COAST,  -       -       -  579 
17.    United   States  Steamer  Mississippi,  Convey 
ing  Kossuth,  -------583 

Governor  Kossuth;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  585 
GRAND    MILITARY    RECEPTION   OF    GOV 
ERNOR  KOSSUTH  IN  NEW  YORK,     -       -  588 
Treaty  of  Peace,  Amity,  etc.,  -        -       -       -  592 

Commodore  Perry;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  594 
NAVAL  EXPEDITION  TO  JAPAN,  UNDER  COM 
MODORE  M.  C.  PERRY,  -----  597 

Interior  of  the  World's  Fair,  New  York,       -  600 

Theodore  Sedgwick ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  602 
CRYSTAL  PALACE  OF  NEW  YORK,  FOR  THE 
EXHIBITION  OF  THE  INDUSTRIES  OF  ALL 

NATIONS,       -------  604 

Steamship  Arctic,     ------  608 

Loss  OF  THE  COLLINS  STEAMSHIP  ARCTIC, 
BY    COLLISION    AT  NOONDAY    IN    MID- 
OCEAN,    --------  612 

Liberty  for  Kansas,  ------  616 

Senator  Butler;  Portrait  and  Autograph,      -  618 

Senator  Sumner;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    -  620 

Assault  on  Senator  Sumner,  by  P.  S.  Brooks,  622 

Preston  S.  Brooks;  Portrait,  -       -       -        -  623 

Captain  Herndon  on  the  Wheel-house,  -       -  626 
FOUNDERING  OF  THE  STEAMER  CENTRAL 

AMERICA,       -------  628 

Victims  of  the  Central  America,     -       -       -  630 

Run  on  a  Bank,        ------  635 

EXCITEMENT  IN  BUSINESS  CIRCLES  DURING 

THE  GREAT  PANIC,      -----  637 

Effects  of  the  Hard  Times,      -       -       -       -  639 

Book  of  Requests  for  Prayers,         -       -       -  644 
Group  of  Eminent  Revival  Preachers,  dur 
ing  the  National  Century,    -       -       -       -  648 

Dwight  L.  Moody;  Portrait,    -  652 

Ira  D.  Sankey;  Portrait,  -----  652 

REVIVAL  MEETING   IN    BROOKLYN,  CON 
DUCTED  BY  MESSRS.  MOODY  AND  SANKEY,  654 
Morphy's  World-Renowned  Triumphs,  -       -  657 
Paul  Morphy;   Portrait  and  Autograph,        -  654 
PAUL  MORPHY,  PLAYING  EIGHT  GAMES  OF 

CHESS  WITHOUT  SEEING  THE  BOARDS,    -  661 

Escape  from  the  Burning  Steamer,         -       -  664 
BURNING   OF    THE   STEAMSHIP,  AUSTRIA, 

WITH  FIVE  HUNDRED  SOULS  ON  BOARD,  -  666 

Last  View  of  the  Unfortunate  Steamer,        -  669 

State  Capital  of  Illinois,  -        -                -       -  672 

Debate  between  Lincoln  and  Douglas,  -       -  673 

S.  A.  Douglas;  Portrait  and  Autograph,        -  677 

Travelers  Dependence  in  Former  Times,        -  679 

Locomotive  Rocket,  1829,                                 -  680 

Locomotive  of  To-day, 681 

Original  Steam  Car,  ------  682 

Modern  Railway  Car,        -----  683 

Petroleum  Wells,       ------  687 

Petroleum  Wells  in  Pennsylvania,  -       -       -  689 

Process  of  Boring  for  Petroleum,  -  690 

BURNING  OF  ONE  OF  THE  GREAT  OIL  WELLS,  693 

The  Spot  where  Broderick  Fell,      -  696 

D.  C.  Broderick;  Portrait,       -       -       -       -  698 

THE  BODY  OF  SENATOR  BRODERICK  LYING 

IN  STATE,  SAN  FRANCISCO,                       -  700 


64 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


NO. 

SUBJECT.                                           PAGE. 

NO. 

305. 

Capture  of  John  Brown,  - 

704 

363. 

..••••. 

John  Brown;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  - 

706 

364. 

307. 

HARPER'S    FERRY     AND    THE    ARSENAL 

708 

365. 
366. 

, 

712 

oUn. 

309. 

RUINS  OF  PEMBERTON  MILLS,      - 

714 

367. 

310. 

"  Lizzie"  Amidst  the  Awful  Ruins, 

71!» 

368. 

311. 

Japanese  Box  Containing  the  Treaty,    - 

721 

369. 

312. 

PRESIDENT    BUCHANAN'S    RECEPTION    OF 

370. 

THE  GRAND  EMBASSY  FROX  JAPAN, 

723 

371. 

313. 

Ambassadors  Simini   Boojsen    Nokami    ami 

7°7 

372. 
373. 

ft  1 

.  ooraga  i     wajsi^       i      , 

729 

374. 

Btt» 
315. 

ARRIVAL  or  THE  STEAMSHIP  GREAT  EAST- 

733 

375. 

816. 

Execution  of  General  Walker,        - 

737 

376. 

317. 

General  Walker;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    - 

739 

377. 

318. 

LANDING  OF  GENERAL  WALKER'S  FILLI- 

BUSTERINO  EXPEDITION  AT  TRUXILLO,  - 

741 

378. 

319. 

The  Prince  of  Wales  at  Washington's  Tomb, 

745 

379. 

320. 

Prince  of  Wales;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    - 

747 

380. 

321. 

GRAND  BALL  GIVEN  TO  THE  PRINCE  OF 

WALES,  IN  BOSTON,     - 

7.-  1>         >1. 

322. 

Flag  of   Fort  Sumter,  After  the   Bombard 

'    382. 

ment,       -------- 

763 

383. 

323. 

Major  Anderson;  Portrait  and  Autograph,     - 

755 

3K4. 

324. 

General    Beauregard  ;     1'ortrait    and    Auto 

385. 

graph,      -------- 

757 

386. 

325. 

INTERIOR  OF  FORT   SUMTER  AFTER   THE 

387. 

BOMBARDMENT,      ------ 

759 

388. 

326. 

"  Cruiser,"  Untamed,        -        -        -        -        - 

701 

327 

John  S.  Karey;  1'ortrait,-        - 

763 

389. 

328. 

Mr.  Karey  Exhibiting  his  Celebrated  Method 

390. 

of  Taming  Horses,        - 

766 

391, 

329. 

Monument  on  the  Bull  Run  Battle-field, 

7C8 

392. 

330. 

General  McDowell;  Portrait  and  Autograph, 

771 

331. 

General  Johnston;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  - 

773 

303. 

332. 

BATTLE  OF  BULL  RUN,  -       -       -       -       - 

775 

333. 

Interior  of  the  Tower  of  the  Monitor,    - 

778 

394. 

334. 

Commodore  Franklin  Buchanan  ;     Portrait 

ami  Autograph,      ------ 

780 

305. 

335. 

NAVAL  COMBAT  BETWEEN  THE  MERRIMAC 

396. 

AND  MONITOR,      ------ 

783 

336. 

Lieutenant  Worden;  Portrait  and  Autograph, 

785 

307. 

337. 

Burying  the  Dead  at  Antietam,       - 

787 

398. 

M. 

General  McClelhin;  1'ortrait  and  Autograph, 

789 

339. 

General  Burnside;  Portrait,     -        -        -        - 

790 

399. 

340. 

BATTLE  OF  ANTIETAM,  -       -       -       -       - 

791 

400. 

341. 

General  ''Stonewall  "  Jackson;  Portrait, 

792 

401. 

342. 

General  Hooker;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    - 

793 

343. 

Pen  used  in  Signing  the  Proclamation,  - 

796 

402. 

344. 

Secretary  Seward;  Portrait,    - 

797 

403. 

345. 

Secretary  Stanton;  Portrait,  -        -       -        - 

798 

404. 

346. 

President  Lincoln;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  - 

799 

405. 

347. 

PROCLAMATION  OF  EMANCIPATION,    - 

801 

406. 

348. 

Operations  at  Vicksburg,  ----- 

806 

407. 

349. 

General  Pemberton;    Portrait,        ... 

808 

350. 

Siege  of  Vicksburg,  by  General  Grant,  - 

809 

408. 

351. 

General  MePhereon;   Portrait,        -       -       . 

811 

352. 

INTERVIEW  BETWEEN    GENERALS  GRANT 

409. 

BM 

J1M 

353. 

OA* 

-  1  ' 

*tiu. 

J.1  1 

354. 

General  Meade;  Portrait  and  Autograph, 

CIO 

817 

411. 

412. 

355. 

BATTLE  OF  GETTYSBURG,      -       ... 

819 

413. 

356. 

General  Longstreet;  Portrait  and  Autograph, 

821 

357. 

Soldiers'  Monument  at  Gettysburg, 

823 

414. 

358. 

Rev.  H.  W.  Beocher  Defending  the  American 

415. 

Union,  in  Exeter  Hall,  London,  - 

827 

416. 

-• 

Mr.  Beeeher'g  Church,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y., 

831 

417. 

360. 

Statue  of  Beethoven,  In  Boston,     ... 

833 

418. 

361. 

The  Great  Organ  in  Boston  Music  Hall, 

835 

419. 

3B2. 

Genius  of  Art  and  Music,        .... 

837 

420. 

SUBJECT.  PAGE. 

Merchant  Vessel  Burned  by  the  Alabama,    -  840 

Captain  Remmes;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    -  842 

Captain  Winslow;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  844 
NAVAL   CONTEST    BETWEEN    THE    KEAR- 

8ARGE  AND  ALABAMA,       -  846 

Farragut's  Flag-Ship,  "  Hartford,"          -        -  848 

Admiral  Farragut;  Portrait,  -        -        -        -  gso 

Admiral  Porter;  Portrait,        -        ...  8,r>0 

Admiral  Foote  ;  Portrait,        ...        -  gso 

Admiral  Dupont;  Portrait,      -        ...  £50 

UNION  NAVAL  VICTORY  IN  MOBILE  BAY,    -  853 

Head-quarters,  Atlanta,  Ga.,  -  857 

General  Sherman;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  859 
SHERMAN'S  GREAT  MARCH  THROUGH  THE 


HEART  OF  THE  SOUTH, 


-    861 


General  Grant  Stating  Terms  of  Surrender,  868 
RICHMOND,  THE   CONFEDERATE   CAPITAL, 

ENTERED  BY  THE  UNION  ARMY,      -       -  ?69 
Lincoln's  Early  Home,     -----  876 
Ford's  Theater  at  Washington,        ...  $77 
THE  ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  LIN 
COLN,      879 

House  where  Lincoln  Died,      -        -        -        -  880 

J.  Wilkes  Booth;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    -  881 
Lincoln's  Residence  at  Springfield,  111.,        -  882 
Sergeant  Boston  Corbett;  Portrait,        -       -  883 
Burial  Place  of  Lincoln,  -                                 -  885 
Section  of  the  Atlantic  Cable,        -        -        -  888 
Cyrus  W.  Field;  Portrait  and  Autograph,      -  800 
Arrival  of  the  Great  Eastern  at  Heart's  Con 
tent,  with  the  Atlantic  Cable,      -        -        -  804 
Mountain  Scene  on  the  Pacific  Railroad,       -  896 
COMPLETION  OF  THE  PACIFIC  RAILROAD,    -  ooo 
P.  S.  Gilmore;  Portrait  and  Autograph,        -  006 
National  Peace  Jubilee  and  Musical  Festival 

at  Boston,       -                                         -  909 
Mr.  Ogden's  House  Untouched  in  the  Midst 

of  the  Great  Fire,  ------  913 

BURNING  OF  CHICAGO,  OCTOBER  8  AND  0, 

1871, 917 

Trinity  Church,  Boston,  Destroyed,        -        -  920 
TERRIBLE  FIRE  IN  THE  BUSINESS   HEART 

OF  BOSTON,  Nov.  9  AND  10, 1872,       -       -  023 
Emblematic  Head  piece,  -----  927 
Symbols  of  the  Co-operative  Labor  Organiza 
tions,       929 

SPIRIT  OF  THE  GRANGE  MOVEMENT,  -       -  931 

The  Great  Cathedral,  N.  Y.,    -       -        -        -  934 

Archbishop  McCloskey  the  First  American 
Cardinal,         -------935 

Consecrational  of  the  Cardinal,       -  937 

Electric  Lamp,  -----                -  940 

Electric  Light  at  Sea,       -----  942 

Thos.  A.  Edison;  Autograph,   -        -       -        -  943 

Phonograph,      »-----•  944 

House  in  which  Jefferson  Wrote  the  Declara 
tion  of  Independence,  -----  948 

OPENING  OF  THE  CENTENNIAL  EXHIBITION 

IN  PHILADELPHIA,       -----  950 

The  Corliss  Engine,  -                                         -  961 

EXHIBITION  BUILDINGS  IN  PHILADELPHIA,  953 

INDEPENDENCE  HALL,  JULY  4, 1876,    -       -  954 

UNION  SQUARE,  NEW  YORK,  JULY  4,  1876,  956 
READING  THE  ORIGINAL  DECLARATION  OF 

INDEPENDENCE,  JULY  4,  1876,  -       -       -  958 

Entrance  of  the  N.  Y.  7th  Regiment,      •         -  960 

State  Avenue,  Nat'l  Centennial  Exhibition,  -  961 

Woman's  Pavilion,  Nat'l  Centenn'l  Exhibit'n,  962 

The  Tunisian  Tent,  Nat'l  Centenn'l  Exhibit'n,  963 

ALL  HAIL  TO  THE  HEREAFTER  !-       -       -  965 

Flag  of  the  German  Empire,   .       .       -       •  906 

Emperor  William;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  966 


I. 


BIRTH  OF  THE  NEW  REPUBLIC.— 1776. 


Declaration  of  American  Independence  and  National  Sovereignty,  July  Fourth,  1776. — The  Gauntlet  of 
Defiance  thrown  at  the  Feet  of  the  British  Empire  by  Her  Youngest  Colonies. — Vast  Disparity,  in 
Power  and  Resources,  between  the  Contestants. — The  whole  World  looks  on  Astonished — Seven 
Years'  Bloody  and  Desolating  War. — The  American  Cause  Triumphant. — Grandest  Modern  Event. 
America  Resists  Unjust  Taxation. — Haughty  Obstinacy  of  King  George. — Burning  Eloquence  of  Pat 
rick  Henry. — His  Summons,  "  We  Must  Fight." — Washington  Endorses  this  Sentiment. — Determina 
tion  of  the  People. — War  Preferred  to  Submission  — Momentous  Action  by  Congress. — Separation  from 
England  Decreed. — Effect  of  the  Act  in  America. — Its  Reception  in  England — Excitement  of  the 
King  and  Court. — Lord  Chatham,  America's  Advocate. — His  Passionate  Change  of  Views — Scorch 
ing  Speech  against  the  Colonies. — He  is  Struck  Dead  while  Speaking  — Magnanimity  of  Burke  and  Fox. 
— Recognition  from  France  Secured  — Her  Timely  Aid  in  the  Struggle. — Victories  over  the  British 
Armies. — England  Gives  Up  the  Contest. — World-wide  Welcome  to  the  New  Nation. 


"  It  will  be  celebrated  by  succeeding  generations,  as  the  great  anniversary  festival.  It  ought  to  be  commemorated  as  the  day  of  deliverance, 
>y  solemn  acts  of  devotion  to  Almighty  God.  It  ought  to  be  solemnized  with  pomp  and  parade,  with  shows,  games,  sports,  guns,  bells,  bon- 
ires,  and  illuminations,  from  one  end  of  the  continent  to  the  other,  from  this  time  forth,  forevermore." — JOHN  ADAMS. 


NE   HUNDRED   YEARS  ago,  namely,  on 
the  Fourth  of  July,  1776,  there  was  born  in 
the  western  world  a  New  Nation, — the  RE 
PUBLIC  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES.     Defiance  to 
tyrants  was  emblazoned  in  empyreal  light  upon 
her  brow,  and  Freedom  and  Justice  were  the 
frontlets  between  her  eyes.     Mon- 
archs,  crowned  with  kingly  dia 
dems,  stood  awed  at  the  august 
manifesto,  and  at  the  solemn  ar 
raignment  of  King  George  before 
the    judgment    of    mankind,  and 
parliaments  and  cabinets  started 
in  dismay  to  their  feet;  but  the 
People,  as  they  descried  the  eagle 
of  Liberty  spreading  her  wings, 
and  soaring  proudly  aloft,  breath 
ed  freer  and  took  stronger  heart, 
as   the    clear    ring   of   her    voice 
sounded  through  the  air,  declar 
ing,  with  grandly  rounded  enun 
ciation,  that  "  all  men  are  created 

RINGING  OF  THE    BELL,  JULY  4,   1776.       CqiUll. 

Refusing  to  pay  the  tribute  of  taxation  arbitrarily  imposed 
upon  them  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet  by  the  British  crown, — 


G6 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1S7G. 


failing,  too,  to  move  the  king  and  his  min 
isters  from  their  career  of  haughty  and 
reckless  obstinacy, — the  thirteen  American 
colonies  found  themselves  reduced  to  the 
alternative  of  abject  submission  to  their 
so-called  royal  masters,  or  of  armed  resist 
ance.  Already  there  had  flashed  through 
out  the  country  the  electric  words  of  Pat 
rick  Henry,  "  We  must  fight !  An  appeal 
to  arms  and  to  the  God  of  Hosts  is  all 
that  is  left  us.  I  repeat  it,  sir,  we  must 
fight ! "  And  as  the  blood  of  patriot 
hearts  had  now  flowed  freely  and  bravely 
at  Concord,  and  Lexington,  and  Bunker 
Hill,  Washington  declared,  in  words  of 
solemn  emphasis  and  characteristic  brevity, 
"  Nothing  short  of  INDEPENDENCE,  it  ap 
pears  to  me,  can  possibly  do."  He  also 
warmly  approved  and  commended  Paine's 
pamphlet,  "  Common  Sense,"  written  to 
this  end.  The  sons  of  liberty  shouted  their 
responsive  acclaim  to  this  manly  summons 
from  the  great  American  soldier — Wash 
ington — and,  like  the  sound  of  many  wa 
ters,  the  spirit  of  national  independence 
which  thus  possessed  the  people  came  upon 
the  continental  congress,  then  in  session  in 
the  state-house  at  Philadelphia,  Pennsyl 
vania. 

It  was  in  this  temple  of  freedom,  where 
in  was  sitting  as  roble  and  august  a  legis 
lative  body  as  the  world  ever  saw,  that 
Richard  Henry  Lee  introduced  a  resolu 
tion,  on  the  7th  of  June,  1776,  declaring, 
"That  the  United  Colonies  are  and  ought 
to  be  free  and  independent  States,  and  that 
their  political  connection  with  Great  Brit 
ain  is  and  ought  to  be  dissolved."  Upon 
this  resolution  there  sprang  up  at  once  an 
earnest  and  powerful  debate.  It  was  op 
posed,  principally,  on  the  ground  that  it 
was  premature.  Some  of  the  best  and 
strongest  advocates  of  colonial  rights  spoke 
and  voted  against  the  motion,  which  at  last 
was  adopted  only  by  a  vote  of  seven  States 
in  its  favor  to  six  against.  Some  of  the 
delegates  had  not  received  definite  instruc 
tions  from  their  constituents,  and  others 
had  been  requested  to  vote  against  it.  Its 
further  consideration  was  accordingly  post 
poned  until  there  was  a  prospect  of  greater 


unanimity.  On  the  eleventh  of  June, 
therefore,  a  committee  was  appointed  to 
draft  a  formal  Declaration  ;  this  commit 
tee  consisting  of  Benjamin  Franklin,  John 
Adams,  Thomas  Jefferson,  Roger  Sherman, 
and  Robert  R.  Livingston. 

On  the  twenty-eighth  of  June,  the  com 
mittee  made  their  report,  and  presented 
the  Declaration  which  they  had  drawn  up. 
The  first  or  original  draft  was  penned  by 
Mr.  Jefferson,  chairman  of  the  committee. 
On  the  second  of  July,  congress  proceeded 
to  the  serious  consideration  of  this  mo 
mentous  paper ;  the  discussion,  as  to  the 
tone  and  statements  characterizing  the 
document,  and  the  propriety  of  adopting 
at  that  time  a  measure  so  decisive,  lasted 
for  nearly  three  days,  and  was  extremely 
earnest.  It  was  so  powerfully  opposed  by 
some  of  the  members,  that  Jefferson  com 
pared  the  opposition  to  "  the  ceaseless  ac 
tion  of  gravity,  weighing  upon  us  by  night 
and  by  day."  Its  supporters,  however, 
were  the  leading  minds,  and  urged  its 
adoption  with  masterly  eloquence  and  abil 
ity.  John  Adams,  Jefferson  asserts,  was 
"  the  colossus  in  that  debate,"  and  "  fought 
fearlessly  for  every  word  of  it."  The  bond 
which  was  formed  between  those  two  great 
men  on  this  occasion  seems  never  to  have 
been  completely  severed,  both  of  them 
finally  expiring,  with  a  sort  of  poetic  jus 
tice,  on  the  fiftieth  anniversary  of  the  act 
which  constituted  their  chief  glory. 

Wrell  and  truly  did  the  mighty  patriot 
Adams  characterize  this  event  as  the  mos-t 
memorable  epoch  in  the  history  of  Amer 
ica.  "  I  am  apt  to  believe,"  said  he,  "  that 
it  will  be  celebrated  by  succeeding  genera 
tions,  as  the  great  anniversary  festival.  It 
ought  to  be  commemorated  as  the  day  of 
deliverance,  by  solemn  acts  of  devotion  to 
Almighty  God.  It  ought  to  be  solemnized 
with  pomp  and  parade,  with  shows,  games, 
sports,  guns,  bells,  bonfires  and  illumina 
tions,  from  one  end  of  this  continent  to 
the  other,  from  this  time  forth  forever- 
more  !  "  The  result  has  equaled  the  great 
patriot's  wishes.  Tradition  gives  a  dra 
matic  effect  to  its  announcement.  It  was 
known,  throughout  the  city,  that  the  great 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


67 


event  was  to  be  determined  that  day,  by 
the  last  formal  acts ;  but  the  closed  doors 
of  congress  excluded  the  populace  from 
witnessing  the  august  assembly  or  its  pro 
ceedings,  though  thousands  of  auxious 
citizens  had  gathered  around  the  building, 
eager  to  hear  the  words  of  national  des 
tiny  soon  to  be  officially  proclaimed.  From 
the  hour  when  congress  came  together  in 
the  forenoon,  all  business  was  suspended 
throughout  the  city,  and  the  old  bellman 
steadily  remained  at  his  post  in  the  steeple, 
prepared  to  sound  forth  to  the  waiting 
multitudes  the  expected  glad  tidings.  He 
had  even  stationed  a  boy  at  the  door  of  the 
hall  below,  to  give  immediate  signal  of  the 
turn  of  events.  This  bell,  manufactured 


felt  such  a  professional  pride,  the  electri 
fied  old  patriot  rung  forth  such  a  joyous 
peal  as  was  never  heard  before,  nor  ceased 
to  hurl  it  backward  and  forward,  till  every 
voice  joined  in  its  notes  of  gladness  and 
triumph.  The  roar  of  cannon,  and  illu 
minations  from  every  house  and  hill-top, 
added  to  these  demonstrations  of  uni 
versal  rejoicing. 

And  this  was  the  type  of  that  exultation 
which  everywhere  manifested  itself,  as  the 
news  spread  with  lightning  rapidity  from 
city  to  city  and  from  State  to  State.  Every 
American  patriot  regarded  the  declaration 
by  congress  as  the  noble  performance  of 
an  act  which  had  become  inevitable;  and 
the  paper  itself  as  the  complete  vindica- 


HALL  OF   INDEPENDENCE,  PHILADELPHIA,  1776. 


in  England,  bore  upon  its  ample  curve  the 
now  prophetic  inscription,  "Proclaim  lib 
erty  throughout  all  the  land  unto  all  the 
inhabitants  thereof."  Hours  passed  on, 
and  fear  began  to  take  the  place  of  hope 
in  many  a  heart;  even  the  venerable  and 
always  cheerful  bellman  was  overheard  in 
his  despondent  soliloquy,  "  They  will  never 
do  it!  they  will  never  do  it!"  Finally, 
at  about  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
the  door  of  the  mysterious  hall  swung 
open,  and  a  voice  exclaimed,  "Passed! — 
it  has  passed  !  "  The  word  was  caught  up 
by  ten  thousand  glad  mouths,  and  the 
watch-boy  now  clapped  his  hands  and 
shouted,  "Ring!  Ring!"  Seizing  the  iron 
tongue  of  the  bell  in  which  he  had  long 


tion  of  America  before  the  bar  of  public 
opinion  throughout  the  world.  When  it 
was  read  by  the  magistrates  and  other 
functionaries,  in  the  cities  and  towns  of 
the  whole  nation,  it  was  greeted  with 
shouts,  bonfires,  and  processions.  It  was 
read  to  the  troops,  drawn  up  under  arms, 
and  to  the  congregations  in  churches  by 
ministers  from  the  pulpit.  Washington 
hailed  the  declaration  with  joy.  It  is 
true,  it  was  but  a  formal  recognition  of  a 
state  of  things  which  had  long  existed,  but 
it  put  an  end  to  all  those  temporizing  hopes 
of  reconciliation  which  had  clogged  the 
military  action  of  the  country.  On  the 
ninth  of  July,  therefore,  Washington 
caused  it  to  be  read  at  six  o'clock  in  the 


68 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


evening,  at  the  head  of  each  brigade  of 
the  army.  "  The  general  hopes,"  said  he 
in  his  orders,  "tliut  this  important  event 
will  serve  as  a  fresh  incentive  to  every 
officer  and  soldier,  to  act  with  fidelity  and 
courage,  as  knowing  that  now  the  peace 
and  safety  of  his  country  depend,  under 
God,  solely  on  the  success  of  our  arms ; 
and  that  he  is  now  in  the  service  of  a 
State,  possessed  of  sufficient  power  to  re 
ward  his  merit,  and  advance  him  to  the 
highest  honors  of  a  free  country."  The 
troops  listened  to  the  reading  of  this  with 
eager  attention,  and  at  its  close  broke  forth 
in  tumultuous  applause. 

The  excitable  populace  of  New  York 
were  not  content  with  the  ringing  of  bells 
and  the  other  usual  manifestations  of 
public  joy.  There  was  a  leaden  eques 
trian  statue  of  George  the  Third  in  the 
Bowling  Green,  in  front  of  the  fort. 
Around  this  kingly  effigy  the  excited  mul 
titude,  surging  hither  and  thither,  unit 
edly  gathered,  and  pulling  it  down  to  the 
ground,  broke  it  into  fragments,  which 
fragments  were  afterwards  conveniently 
molded  into  bullets  and  made  to  do  service 
against  his  majesty's  troops.  Some  of  the 
soldiers  and  officers  of  the  American  army 
having  joined  in  this  proceeding,  Wash 
ington  censured  it,  as  having  much  the 
appearance  of  a  riot  and  a  want  of  disci 
pline,  and  the  army  was  ordered  to  abstain, 
in  the  future,  from  all  irregularities  of  the 
kind. 

In  Boston,  that  citadel  of  radical  insub 
ordination  to  "his  majesty,"  the  public 
joy  knew  no  bounds,  and  even  the  British 
prisoners  were  courteously  summoned  to 
witness  the  spirit  with  which  a  brave  peo 
ple,  determined  to  be  free,  dared  to  defy 
the  British  throne.  On  the  seventeenth 
of  July  the  British  officers  on  parole  re 
ceived  each  a  card  from  the  governor,  re 
questing  the  honor  of  said  officer's  attend 
ance  at  a  specified  hour  on  the  morrow,  in 
the  town  hall.  As  rumors  were  pretty 
well  afloat,  however,  touching  the  decided 
step  that  had  been  taken  at  Philadelphia, 
the  officers  were  not  without  a  suspicion  as 
to  the  purport  of  the  meeting,  and  hesi 


tated  for  a  while  as  to  the  consistency  of 
giving  the  sanction  of  their  presence  to  a 
proceeding  which  they  could  not  but  re 
gard  as  traitorous.  Curiosity,  however, 
got  the  better  of  these  scruples,  and  it  was 
resolved,  after  a  brief  consultation,  that 
the  invitation  ought  to  be  accepted. 

On  entering  the  hall,  the  king's  officers 
found  it  occupied  by  'rebellious'  function 
aries,  military,  civil,  and  ecclesiastical,  and 
among  whom  the  same  good  humor  and 
excitement  prevailed  as  among  the  throng 
out  of  doors.  The  British  officials  were 
received  with  great  frankness  and  cordi 
ality,  and  were  allotted  such  stations  as 
enabled  them  to  witness  the  whole  cere 
mony.  Exactly  as  the  clock  struck  one, 
Colonel  Crafts,  who  occupied  the  chair, 
rose,  and,  silence  being  obtained,  read 
aloud  the  declaration,  which  announced  to 
the  world  that  the  tie  of  allegiance  which 
had  so  long  held  Britain  and  her  North 
American  colonies  together,  was  forever 
separated.  This  being  finished,  the  gen 
tlemen  stood  up,  and  each,  repeating  the 
words  as  they  were  spoken  by  an  officer, 
swore  to  uphold,  at  the  sacrifice  of  life, 
the  rights  of  his  country.  Meanwhile,  the 
town  clerk  read  from  a  balcony  the  solemn 
declaration  to  the  collected  multitude ;  at 
the  close  of  which,  a  shout  began  in  the 
hall  and  passed  like  an  electric  spark  to 
the  streets,  which  now  rang  with  loud  huz 
zas,  the  slow  and  measured  boom  of  can 
non,  and  the  rattle  of  musketry.  The 
batteries  on  Fort  Hill,  Dorchester  Neck, 
the  castle,  Nantasket,  and  Long  Island, 
each  saluted  with  thirteen  guns,  the  artil 
lery  in  the  town  fired  thirteen  rounds,  and 
the  infantry  scattered  into  thirteen  divis 
ions,  poured  forth  thirteen  volleys,  —  all 
corresponding  to  the  number  of  states 
which  formed  the  Union.  There  was  also 
a  municipal  banquet,  at  which  speeches 
were  made  and  toasts  drank;  and  in  the 
evening  a  brilliant  illumination  of  the 
houses. 

In  Virginia,  the  proclamation  of  inde 
pendence  was  greeted  with  that  same 
ardor  of  enthusiasm  which  for  so  many 
years  had  characterized  the  people  of  that 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


69 


ancient  commonwealth,  in  the  course  of 
political  freedom.  In  South  Carolina,  too, 
the  declaration  was  read  to  the  assembled 
multitudes,  amid  the  greatest  rejoicings, — 
public  addresses,  military  and  civic  proces 
sions,  bands  of  music,  firing  of  cannon, 
and  kindred  demonstrations  of  popular 
favor.  In  all  the  colonies,  indeed,  the 
declaration  was  hailed  as  the  passing  away 
of  the  old  world  and  the  birth  of  the 
new. 

But  the  declaration,  though  it  thus 
solemnly  inaugurated  a  new  nation  and 
made  the  colonies,  for  the  time,  the  theater 
of  patriotic  jubilee,  involved  startling  per 
ils  and  imposed  momentous  duties ;  for  it 
was  a  defiant  challenge  to  combat  thrown 
by  a  mere  province  in  the  face  of  the  most 
colossal  power  in  all  Christendom.  This 
important  paper  commences  with  stating 
that,  "  When  in  the  course  of  human 
events  it  becomes  necessary  for  one  people 
to  dissolve  the  political  bands  which  have 
connected  them  with  another,  and  to  as 
sume  among  the  powers  of  the  earth,  the 
separate  and  equal  stations  to  which  the 
laws  of  Nature,  and  of  Nature's  God,  en 
title  them,  a  decent  respect  to  the  opinions 
of  mankind  requires  that  they  should  de 
clare  the  causes  which  impel  them  to  the 
separation." 

The  causes  are  then  stated,  and  a  long 
enumeration  of  the  oppressions  complained 
of  by  America  is  closed  by  saying  that 
"  a  prince,  whose  character  is  thus  marked 
by  every  act  which  may  define  a  tyrant,  is 
unfit  to  be  the  ruler  of  a  free  people." 
History  may  be  searched  in  vain  for  words 
so  bold  and  scathing,  used  by  a  colony 
against  a  powerful  sovereign. 

The  fruitless  appeals  which  had  been 
mnde  to  the  people  of  Great  Britain  are 
also  recounted,  but  "  they  too,"  concludes 
this  declaration,  "have  been  deaf  to  the 
voice  of  justice  and  of  consanguinity.  We 
must,  therefore,  acquiesce  in  the  necessity 
which  denounces  our  separation,  and  hold 
them,  as  we  hold  the  rest  of  mankind, 
enemies  in  war,  in  peace  friends."  Then 
comes  the  portentous  conclusion — 

"We,  therefore,  the  representatives  of 


the  United  States  of  America,  in  general 
congress  assembled,  appealing  to  the  Su 
preme  Judge  for  the  rectitude  of  our  inten 
tions,  do,  iu  the  name,  and  by  the  author 
ity  of  the  good  people  of  these  colonies, 
solemnly  publish  and  declare,  that  these 
United  Colonies  are,  and  of  right  ought  to 

be,  FREE  AND  INDEPENDENT  STATES;  that 

they  are  absolved  from  all  allegiance  to 
the  British  crown,  and  that  all  political 
connection  between  them  and  the  State  of 
Great  Britain,  is,  and  ought  to  be,  totally 
dissolved  ;  and  that,  as  free  and  independ 
ent  states,  they  have  full  power  to  levy 
war,  conclude  peace,  contract  alliances, 
establish  commerce,  and  do  all  other  acts 
and  tilings,  which  independent  states  may 
of  right  do.  And  for  the  support  of  this 
declaration,  with  a  firm  reliance  on  the 
protection  of  Divine  Providence,  we  mutu 
ally  pledge  to  each  other,  our  lives,  our 
fortunes,  and  our  sacred  honor." 

In  the  whole  country,  however,  between 
New  England  and  the  Potomac,  which 
was  now  to  become  the  great  theater  of 
action,  although  a  vast  majority  was  in 
favor  of  independence,  there  existed  an 
influential  number,  who  not  only  refused 
to  act  with  their  countrymen,  but  were 
ready  to  give  information  and  aid  to  the 
enemj'.  Most  of  these  tories  were  wealthy 
and  haughty,  and  rendered  themselves  ex 
tremely  unpopular.  Laws  passed  by  the 
new  State  authorities  had  subjected  these 
persons  to  fines  and  imprisonments,  and 
their  property  to  confiscation.  They  en 
dured  many  outrages,  and  were  treated  to 
"tarrings  and  featherings"  innumerable, 
by  the  more  violent  among  the  angry  pop 
ulace.  To  prevent  these  outrages,  con 
gress  gave  the  supervision  of  tories  to 
committees  of  inspection.  Many  of  these 
obnoxious  families  finally  left  the  country, 
and  in  course  of  time  the  to ry  element  was 
eradicated  or  completely  silenced. 

Scarcely  less  interesting  and  important 
is  the  character  of  the  reception  which 
this  remarkable  document  met  on  its  ar 
rival  in  England.  Of  the  noble  band  of 
American  patriots  who  had  been  chosen  to 
deliberate  and  act  for  the  best  good  of  the 


70 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


oppressed  colonies,  and  who,  preceding  the 
final  act  of  the  declaration  of  independ 
ence,  had  sent  forth  the  most  magnani 
mous  appeals  to  Britain's  sense  of  justice, 
—of  these  men  and  their  works,  there  had 
gone  forth  one  of  the  grandest  eulogies 
from  the  elder  Pitt  (Lord  Chatham),  the 
greatest  of  Britain's  statesmen,  who,  in 
his  place  in  parliament,  dared  to  say — 

"I  must  declare  and  avow  that  in  all 
my  reading  and  study — and  it  has  been 
my  favorite  study ;  I  have  read  Thueydi- 
des,  and  have  studied  and  admired  the 
master  states  of  the  world — that,  for  so 
lidity  of  reasoning,  for  force  of  sagacity, 
and  wisdom  of  conclusion,  under  such  a 
complication  of  circumstances,  no  nation 
or  body  of  men  can  stand  in  preference  to 
the  general  congress  of  Philadelphia." 

But  when,  a  few  years  after,  it  was  pro 
posed,  by  the  British  prime  minister,  to 
conciliate  the  exasperated  colonies  by  treat 
ing  them  as  a  people  possessing  certain 
independent  rights  and  powers,  Pitt 
showed  the  exalted  estimation  in  which 
he  held  the  rebellious  colonies  as  part  of 
the  British  realm,  by  opposing  such  a 
course,  in  a  speech  of  almost  dramatic 
power  and  effect,  and  from  which,  owing 
to  the  exhaustion  it  produced  in  his  own 
shattered  system,  the  great  peer  and  ora 
tor  almost  immediately  died. 

In  France,  the  declaration  of  independ 
ence  by  the  American  colonies  was  greeted 
with  secret  satisfaction  by  the  court  and 
rulers,  and  aroused  to  universal  gladness 
the  popular  heart.  Reviewing  the  scene 
and  its  actors,  one  of  the  most  brilliant 
and  popular  orators  of  that  intrepid  nation 
was  led  to  say :  "  With  what  grandeur, 
with  what  enthusiasm,  should  I  not  speak 
of  those  generous  men  who  erected  this 
grand  edifice  by  their  patience,  their  wis 
dom,  and  their  courage  !  Hancock,  Frank 
lin,  the  two  Adamses,  were  the  greatest 
actors  in  this  affecting  scene;  but  they 
were  not  the  only  ones.  Posterity  shall 
know  them  all.  Their  honored  names 
shall  be  transmitted  to  it  by  a  happier 
pen  than  mine.  Brass  and  marble  shall 
show  them  to  remotest  ages.  In  behold 


ing  them,  shall  the  friend  of  freedom  feel 
his  heart  palpitate  with  joy — feel  his  eyes 
float  in  delicious  tears.  Under  the  bust  of 
one  of  them  has  been  written,  '  lie  wrested 
thunder  from  heaven  and  the  scepter  from 
tyrants.'  Of  the  last  words  of  this  eulogy 
shall  all  of  them  partake."  Still  more  preg 
nant  were  the  words  of  the  great  Mira- 
beau,  as,  citing  the  grand  principles  of  the 
American  Declaration,  from  his  place  in 
the  National  Assembly,  "  I  ask,"  he  said, 
"if  the  powers  who  have  formed  alliances 
with  the  States  have  dared  to  read  that 
manifesto,  or  to  interrogate  their  con 
sciences  after  the  perusal  ?  I  ask  whether 
there  be  at  this  day  one  government  in 
Europe — the  Helvetic  and  Batavian  con 
federations  and  the  British  isles  excepted 
— which,  judged  after  the  principles  of  the 
Declaration  of  Congress  on  the  fourth  of 
July,  1776,  is  not  divested  of  its  rights!" 
For  more  than  a  year,  commissioners 
from  congress,  at  the  head  of  whom  was 
Dr.  Franklin,  resided  at  the  court  of 
France,  urging  upon  that  government  to 
acknowledge  the  independence  of  the 
United  States.  But  the  success  of  the 
American  struggle  was  regarded,  as  yet, 
too  doubtful,  for  that  country  to  embroil 
herself  in  a  war  with  Great  Britain.  But 
that  great  event,  the  capture  of  the  British 
army  at  Saratoga,  seemed  to  increase  the 
probability  that  the  American  arms  would 
finally  triumph,  and  decided  France  to 
espouse  her  cause.  The  aid  which  France 
now  brought  to  the  Americans  was  of 
great  importance.  It  is  even  doubtful 
whether  the  colonies,  without  her  contri 
butions  of  money,  navy,  and  troops,  would 
have  been  able  to  resist  Britain  with  final 
success ;  at  least,  the  struggle  must  have 
been  greatly  prolonged.  To  this  inter 
vention,  however,  France  was  inclined,  be 
her  own  hostility  to  England,  whom  she 
delighted  to  see  humbled,  especially  by  a 
people  struggling  for  independence.  Fi 
nally,  after  the  surrender  of  Cornwallis  to 
General  Washington,  the  French  court 
piessed  upon  congress  the  propriety  of  ap 
pointing  commissioners  for  negotiating 
peace  with  Great  Britain.  In  accordance 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


71 


with  this  advice,  John  Adams,  Benjamin 
Franklin,  John  Jay,  and  Henry  Laurens, 
were  appointed.  The  commissioners  met 
Messrs.  Fitzherbert  and  Oswald,  on  the 
part  of  Great  Britain,  at  Paris,  and  provi 
sional  articles  of  peace  between  the  two 
countries  were  there  signed,  November 
thirtieth,  1782;  the  definitive  treaty  being 
signed  on  the  third  of  September,  1783. 
Holland  acknowledged  the  independence 
of  the  United  States  in  1782 ;  Sweden,  in 
February,  1783 ;  Denmark,  in  the  same 
month  ;  Spain,  in  March  ;  Russia,  in  July. 
And  thus,  the  REPUBLIC  OF  THE  UNITED 
STATES  OF  AMERICA  became  an  inde 
pendent  power  among  the  nations  of  the 
earth. 

It  was  not  unknown  to  the  wise  and 
venerable  enactors  of  the  Declaration,  that 
their  signatures  to  such  an  instrument 
would  be  regarded  in  England  as  an  act 
of  treason,  rendering  them  liable  to  the 
halter  or  the  block.  In  the  full  apprecia 
tion  of  all  this,  every  man  of  them  placed 
his  name  upon  the  immortal  parchment. 
The  only  signature  which  indicates  a 


trembling  hand,  is  that  of  Stephen  Hop 
kins,  but  this  was  owing  to  a  nervous 
affection ;  for,  so  resolute  was  he  in  con 
gress,  that,  when  some  of  the  members 
suggested  a  hope  of  reconciliation,  Mr. 
Hopkins  replied,  that  "the  time  had  come 
when  the  strongest  arm  and  the  longest 
sword  must  decide  the  contest,  and  those 
members  who  were  not  prepared  for  action 
had  better  go  home."  The  boldest  signa 
ture  is  that  of  John  Hancock,  he  whom 
the  British  had  excepted  in  their  offers  of 
pardon,  as  one  "whose  offenses  are  of  too 
flagitious  a  nature  to  admit  of  any  other 
consideration  but  that  of  condign  punish 
ment."  The  number  who  signed  the  Dec 
laration  was  fifty-six ;  and  the  average 
length  of  their  lives  was  about  sixty-five 
years.  Carpenters'Hall — or  Independence 
Hall — in  Philadelphia,  where  these  tre 
mendous  scenes  transpired,  is  still  one  of 
the  places  which  every  American  looks 
upon  with  patriotic  pride ;  for  within  that 
temple  was  born  a  Nation,  in  whose  des 
tiny  were  wrapped  the  interests  of  Liberty 
and  Civilization  to  the  end  of  time. 


II. 


CAPITULATION  OF  GENERAL  BTJRGOYNR— 1777. 


First  Royal  Army  Ever  Surrendered  to  Americans. — Utter  Failure  of  England's  Grand  Scheme  to 
"Subdue  the  Rebellious  Colonies." — European  Sympathy  for  the  Struggling  Infant  Nation. — Alliance 
Between  France  and  the  United  States. — Brilliant  and  Kffective  Combination  of  French  and  Ameri 
can  Forces — Gloomy  Prospect  for  America  in  1777. — Britain's  Honor  Intrusted  to  Burgoyne. — His 
Magnificent  Army. — Rebels  to  be  Sternly  Dealt  With. — Sanguine  Expectations  of  Success. — Savages 
Len piied  with  the  Invaders. — Their  Murder  of  Miss  McCrea. — Burgoyne's  Triumphant  1'rogress. — 
Fall  of  Ticonderoga. — American  Victories  at  Bennington,  Etc — Gates's  Army  in  Fine  Spirits — General 
Fraser  Shot  Dead — The  "King's  Regulars"  Desperate — General  Clinton  Fails  to  Aid  Them — All 
Hope  Abandoned  — Burgoyne  Lays  Down  his  Arms  — His  Meeting  with  Gates. — Trophies  of  This 
Victor}' — How  Washington  Got  the  News. — Unbounded  Joy  of  Americans. — Crushing  Blow  to  British 
Pride. — Effect  upon  Other  Nations. 


"I  hire  but  to  eive  ftrctrh  to  the  Inrtirm  fircei  under  my  direction— and  they  amount  to  thousands— to  overtake  the  hardened  enemies 
of  Or*M  Britain."— bUBOOTJIB'l  I'UUCLAMATIU.N. 


GATES'S 


N  the  panels  of  that  vast  and  superb 
rotunda  which  forms  the  center  of  the 
federal  capitol  at  Washington,  are  four 
magnificent  paintings  by  John  Trumbull, 
which  illustrate  the  h'r.-t  four  great  events 
in  the  history  of  the  United  States, 
namely,  the  Declaration  of  American  In 
dependence,  the  Surrender  of  Burgoyne, 
the  Surrender  of  Cornwallis,  and  the  Res 
ignation  of  Washington  as  commander- 
in-chief  of  the  army.  The  design  of  this 
volume  being  to  portray  the  scenes  and 
incidents  relating  to  each  of  those  leading  occurrences,  of  perpetual  interest,  in  the  rev 
olutionary  period, — as  well  as  those  that  illustrate  the  remaining  years  which  constitute 
the  nation's  first  century, — the  account  which  here  follows  will  be  descriptive  of  that 
triumphant  achievement  of  revolutionary  valor,  the  reduction  of  Burgoyne  and  his 
forces  in  1777 ;  it  being  the  first  royal  army  that  ever  capitulated  to  the  Americans. 
It  was  also  a  fitting  close  to  a  year  which  had  been  marked  by  the  arrival  of  Lafa}rette, 
favor  from  the  French  government,  the  battles  of  Brandywine,  Germantown,  and  Ben 
nington,  the  latter  won  by  General  Stark,  and  the  occupation  of  Philadelphia  by  Gen 
eral  Howe. 

The  campaign  of  1777  opened  under  gloomy  auspices,  and  promised  to  the  American 
cause  little  else  than  disasters.  The  army  of  Washington  was  totally  inadequate  in 
numbers,  discipline,  and  equipment,  to  cope  with  the  enemy,  with  any  prospect  of  suc 
cess.  The  genius  of  liberty  was  inclosed  between  two  fires,  and  once  more  a  fatal  crisis 
seemed  approaching  ;  for,  not  only  was  General  Howe  preparing  to  embark  with  twenty 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


73 


thousand  veteran  troops  for  the  Delaware, 
whence  he  was  to  move  on  Philadelphia, 
but  Burgoyne  was  approaching  with  about 
half  that  number,  backed  by  hordes  of  sav 
ages  from  the  north.  Burgoyne  had  long 
been  one  of  the  pet  generals  in  the  British 
arm}',  and  to  him  was  specially  intrusted 
the  prestige  of  British  arms  and  honor  in 
the  conflict  with  America.  He  was  the 
inheritor  of  great  wealth,  through  his 
father-in-law,  the  Earl  of  Derby ;  he  served 
in  Portugal  with  much  credit,  as  brigadier- 
general,  in  1762  ;  for  some  time  he  was  a 
conspicuous  member  of  parliament ;  and 
in  1775  he  was  appointed  to  a  command  in 
America,  "  to  subdue  the  rebellious  colo 
nies."  He  witnessed  the  battle  of  Bunker 
Hill.  In  1776  he  returned  to  England, 
and  had  a  long  conference  with  George 
III.  on  colonial  affairs.  In  1777  he  was 
appointed  to  lead  the  army  which  was  to 
penetrate  from  Canada  into  the  United 
States  and  crusli  to  atoms  the  revolution 
ary  forces ; — with  what  success,  the  fol 
lowing  narrative  will  show : 

Having  arrived  in  Quebec  with  his  com 
mission  in  May,  1777,  this  ambitious  gen 
eral,  inspired  by  the  distinguished  confi 
dence  placed  in  his  genius  and  ability  by 
the  English  ministry,  immediately  dis 
played  great  activity  in  making  those 
preparations  which  were  necessary  to  the 
success  of  an  enterprise  which  was  to  de 
cide  the  fate  of  America.  The  regular 
force  placed  at  his  disposal,  consisting  of 
British  and  German  troops,  amounted  to 
upwards  of  seven  thousand  men,  exclusive 
of  a  corps  of  artillery  numbering  about 
five  hundred.  To  these  was  added  a  de 
tachment  of  seven  hundred  rangers,  under 
Colonel  St.  Leger,  destined  to  make  an 
incursion  into  the  country  of  the  Mohawks, 
and  to  seize  Fort  Stamvix.  According  to 
the  plan  of  operations  decided  upon  by 
Burgoyne,  his  principal  army  was  to  be 
joined  by  two  thousand  Canadians,  in 
cluding  hatchet-men,  and  other  workmen 
whose  services  were  necessary  to  render 
the  route  practicable.  A  sufficient  number 
of  seamen  had  likewise  been  assembled, 
for  manning  the  transports.  Besides  the 


Canadians  that  were  to  be  immediately 
attached  to  the  army,  many  others  were 
called  upon  to  scour  the  woods  in  the 
frontiers,  and  to  occupy  the  intermediate 
parts  between  the  army  which  advanced 
towards  the  Hudson  and  that  which  re 
mained  for  the  protection  of  Canada;  the 
latter  amounted,  including  the  highland 
emigrants,  to  upwards  of  three  thousand 
men.  They  were  furnished  by  the  san 
guine  ministry  with  an  unusual  variety 
and  abundance  of  provisions,  military 
stores,  and  other  conveniences,  amongst 
which  was  included  a  large  quantity  of 
uniforms,  destined  for  the  loyalists,  who, 
it  was  not  doubted,  would  after  victory 
flock  from  all  quarters  to  the  roj'al  camp. 
A  great  number  of  cruel  and  intractable 
savages  were  also  gathered  together  to 
swell  the  force  and  prowess  of  this  invad 
ing  host.  Burgoyne  had  taken  pains  to 
be  seconded  by  many  brave  and  able  offi 
cers,  among  whom  was  Major-General 
Phillips,  the  brigadier-generals  Eraser, 
Powel,  Hamilton,  and  Specht,  with  the 
Brunswick  major-general,  Baron  Riedesel. 
The  whole  army  shared  enthusiasticall}' 
in  the  ardor  and  hopes  of  its  chiefs,  and 
not  a  doubt  was  entertained  of  an  ap 
proaching  triumph,  and  the  thorough  con 
quest  and  humiliation  of  America.  The 
most  base  feature  in  Burgoyne's  plan  of  the 
campaign  was  his  employment  of  hordes 
of  wild  and  inhuman  savages,  whose  only 
weapons  were  the  tomahawk  and  scalping- 
knife.  But  bitterly  did  he  rue  his  course 
in  this  respect,  for  the  deeds  enacted  by 
those  hell-hounds  of  cruelty  served,  more 
than  any  thing  else,  to  exasperate  the 
American  patriots,  and  to  incite  them  to 
determined  resistance  and  triumph.  The 
murder  of  that  lovely  young  woman,  Miss 
McCrea,  at  Fort  Edward,  and  the  bloody 
massacre  in  the  beautiful  valley  of  Wyom 
ing,  were  the  legitimate  fruits  of  such  a 
policy  as  that  of  Burgoyne. 

The  first  movement  of  Burgoyne  was  to 
encamp  near  the  little  river  Roquet,  on 
the  western  bank  of  Lake  Champlain,  a 
short  distance  north  of  Crown  Point. 
Here  he  made  addresses  to  the  Indians  to 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


stimulate  their  ardor  but  repress  their 
ferocious  propensities,  and  sent  proclama 
tions  into  the  country  to  intimidate  the 
people.  He  next  made  a  short  stop  at 
Crown  Point,  and  then  proceeded  to  invest 
Ticonderoga.  The  right  wing  took  the 
western  bank  of  the  lake,  the  left  advanced 
upon  the  eastern,  and  the  center  was  em 
barked  upon  the  lake  itself. 


Sf 


Unfortunately,  the  American  army,  des 
tined  to  oppose  the  progress  of  the  royal 
troops  and  to  defend  Ticonderoga,  was 
altogether  insufficient.  General  Schuyler, 
who  commanded  the  American  troops  in 
this  quarter,  had  been  disappointed  in 
procuring  re-enforcements,  and  his  men 
numbered  only  ubout  four  thousand.  Ti 
conderoga  itself  was  very  strongly  fortified 
on  every  side,  and  its  defense  was  in 
trusted  to  General  St.  Clair,  with  a  garri 
son  of  three  thousand  men,  one-third  of 
these  being  raw  militia,  and  all  of  them 
poorly  equipped.  Although  General  St. 
Clair  put  forth  every  exertion  to  retard  the 
operations  of  the  advancing  enemy,  yet  in 
a  few  days  they  succeeded  in  getting  pos 
session  of  Mount  Hope  and  Mount  De 
fiance,  two  very  important  positions,  one 
of  which  commanded  the  American  lines 
to  a  dangerous  degree,  and  the  other  over 
looked  the  entire  fort.  Ticonderoga  be 
ing  thus  easily  hemmed  in  on  every  side, 
a  council  of  officers  concluded  to  evacuate 
the  fort.  They  accordingly  withdrew  on 


the  night  of  the  fifth  of  July.  All  was 
done  in  good  order  and  profound  silence ; 
and  the  stores,  artillery  and  provisions, 
were  put  on  board  two  hundred  bateaux 
and  five  armed  galleys.  They  would  prob 
ably  have  escaped  unperceived  by  the 
British,  had  not  a  house  caught  fire  on 
Mount  Independence,  which  betrayed  by 
its  light  all  that  had  taken  place.  The 
Americans  were  immediately  pursued,  and 
by  the  next  afternoon  their  boats  were 
overtaken  and  attacked  at  Skenesborough 
Falls.  Two  of  the  American  galleys  sur 
rendered,  and  three  were  blown  up ;  and, 
after  setting  fire  to  their  works,  mills,  and 
bateaux,  that  portion  of  the  army  escaped 
up  Wood  Creek  to  Fort  Anne.  The  van 
guard  of  the  corps  that  set  out  by  land, 
under  St.  Clair,  had  arrived  at  Castleton ; 
the  rear  had  rested  at  Hubbardston,  when 
it  was  overtaken  and  attacked  by  General 
Fraser,  on  the  morning  of  the  seventh. 
An  obstinate  battle  ensued,  which  at 
length,  after  Riedesel  came  up,  resulted  in 
the  dispersion  of  the  Americans,  who  left 
many  of  their  soldiers,  together  with  their 
brave  commander,  Colonel  Francis,  dead 


on  the  field.  St.  Clair,  after  hearing  this 
news,  struck  into  the  woods  in  an  eastern 
direction,  hoping  thereby  to  mislead  Bur- 
goyne  as  to  the  course  and  position  of  the 
American  forces. 

The  English  generals  next  resolved  to 
drive  the  Americans  from  Fort  Anne. 
After  a  sanguinary  combat  they  finally 
succeeded  in  this,  by  bringing  suddenly 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


75 


to  their  aid  their  savage  allies.  The 
Americans  set  the  fort  on  fire,  and  re 
tired  to  Fort  Edward,  where  General 
Sehuyler  had  posted  himself.  On  the 
twelfth,  St.  Clair  also  arrived  there  with 
the  remains  of  the  garrison  of  Ticonder- 
oga.  This,  it  was  expected,  would  be  the 
next  point  of  attack.  But  Burgoyne  was 
detained  at  Skenesborough,  through  want 
of  provisions  and  stores.  General  Schuy 
ler  took  advantage  of  this  delay,  and  neg 
lected  no  means  to  procure  recruits  and 
to  impede  the  progress  of  the  enemy. 

After  succeeding  in  obtaining  posses 
sion  of  Fort  George,  the  British  army  with 
much  difficulty  attained  the  banks  of  the 
Hudson,  near  Fort  Edward.  The  Ameri 
cans  moved  down  to  Stillwater.  Bur- 
go}Tne  soon  experienced  a  great  depriva 
tion  of  provisions.  While  Colonel  St. 
Leger  was  investing  Fort  Stanwix,  on 
the  Mohawk,  he  detached  five  hundred 
soldiers  and  savages  to  procure  cattle  at 
Bennington.  To  favor  this  expedition  he 
moved  his  army  down  to  the  bank  opposite 
Saratoga;  but  a  company  of  provincials 
having  assembled  from  different  quarters 
at  Bennington,  under  the  command  of 
Colonel  Stark,  the  latter  met  the  enemy 
on  the  border  of  the  town,  and  after  an 
obstinate  encounter  bravely  repulsed  them. 
The  British,  however,  were  again  strength 
ened  by  a  fresh  detachment,  and  once  more 
the  Americans  were  attacked;  but  victory 
declared  for  the  latter,  the  English  losing 
seven  hundred  men  and  all  their  baggage. 

But  at  this  time,  General  Herkimer, 
who  marched  to  the  relief  of  Colonel  Gan- 
sevoort  at  Fort  Stanwix,  was  ambushed  by 
the  savages,  who  dispersed  his  corps  with 
all  that  frightful  carnage  characteristic  of 
Indian  warfare.  In  a  short  time,  how 
ever,  the  Indians  became  disaffected,  and 
the  British  were  obliged  to  raise  the  siege 
and  retreat. 

These  successes  of  the  Americans  at 
Stanwix  and  Bennington,  inspired  them 
with  new  confidence.  The  harvests  were 
now  ended,  and  the  country  people  took 
arms  in  multitudes,  and  hastened  to  the 
camp  elated  with  the  expectation  of  van 


quishing  the  vaunted  '  regulars  of  the 
king.'  General  Gates,  an  officer  of  uo 
inconsiderable  renown,  was  appointed  to 
the  command  of  the  army,  which  also  gave 
a  new  spur  to  their  alacrity  ;  they  were  ex 
cited,  too,  by  the  inhuman  cruelties  of  the 
savages  under  St.  Leger  and  Burgoyne, 
and  the  awful  butchery  of  the  young  and 
beautiful  Miss  McCrea,  murdered  in  cold 
blood  at  Fort  Edward  by  the  British-paid 
Indians,  which  was  still  fresh  in  their 
minds,  exasperated  them  to  the  extreme. 
The  savages  now  deserted  Burgoyne,  and 
the  Canadians  were  frightened  to  their 
homes,  by  the  sinister  aspect  of  affairs. 
General  Lincoln,  with  a  strong  and  de 
termined  body  of  New  Hampshire  and 
Connecticiit  militia,  assisted  by  Colonels 
Brown  and  Johnston,  proceeded  with  great 
secrecy  and  celerity  to  repossess  Forts  Ed 
ward,  Anne,  and  George,  Mount  Hope, 
and  Mount  Defiance.  Complete  success 
crowned  this  admirably  conducted  move 
ment. 

General  Burgoyne  having  amassed  about 
thirty  days'  provisions,  resolved  to  pass  the 
Hudson,  engage  the  American  army,  and 
penetrate  to  Albany.  Towards  the  mid 
dle  of  September,  he  crossed  the  river,  and 
encamped  on  the  heights  and  plains  of 
Saratoga,  Gates  being  then  near  Stillwa 
ter.  Burgoyne  had  now  to  rely,  almost 
entirely,  on  his  German  and  British  regu 
lar  troops,  and  a  battle  was  soon  expected. 
This  was  reserved  for  the  nineteenth  of 
September,  and  the  question  was  to  be  de 
cided,  whether  the  Americans  could  resist 
the  English  upon  equal  ground,  in  fair 
and  regular  battle. 

Some  small  woods  only  separating  the 
two  watchful  and  eager  armies,  they  were 
early  on  the  nineteenth  formed  in  the 
order  of  battle.  The  right  wing  of  the 
British  army  rested  upon  the  high  grounds, 
and  the  left  wing  and  artillery,  under  Phil 
lips  and  Riedesel,  kept  along  the  road  and 
meadows  by  the  river  side.  Gates  took 
the  right  of  the  American  army,  and  gave 
the  left  to  Arnold.  Smart  skirmishes  im 
mediately  ensued  between  the  foremost 
marksmen  of  either  party,  and  the  two 


70 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


forces  soon  met.  General  Fraser  repulsed 
the  Americans.  Finding  the  right  Hank 
of  the  enemy's  right  wing  so  well  defended, 
they  left  a  sufficient  guard  to  defend  this 
passage,  made  a  rapid  movement  to  their 
right,  and  vigorously  assailed  the  left  flank 
of  the  same  wing.  Arnold  exhibited  upon 
this  occasion  all  the  impetuosity  of  his 
courage,  and  emboldened  his  men  both  by 
voice  and  example.  The  action  became 
extremely  warm ;  and  the  enemy  fearing 
that  Arnold,  by  cutting  their  line,  would 
penetrate  between  their  wings  —  as  was 
manifestly  his  intention, — hastened  to  re- 
enforce  the  points  attacked.  General 
Fraser  came  up  with  the  twenty-fourth 
regiment,  some  light  infantry,  and  Brey- 
man's  riflemen ;  he  would  have  drawn 
more  troops  from  the  right  flank,  but  the 
heights,  on  which  it  was  posted,  were  of 
too  great  importance  to  be  totally  evacu 
ated.  Meanwhile,  such  was  the  valor  and 
impetuosity  of  the  Americans,  that  the 
English  began  to  fall  into  confusion,  and 
would  have  been  utterly  routed,  but  for  the 
arrival  of  General  Phillips  with  fresh  men 
and  a  part  of  the  artillery;  upon  hearing 
the  firing,  lie  had  rapidly  made  his  way 
through  a  very  difficult  wood  to  the  scene 
of  danger.  He  restored  the  action  at  the 
very  moment  it  was  about  to  be  decided  in 
favor  of  the  Americans;  but  the  latter, 
nothing  daunted,  renewed  their  attacks 
with  such  persevering  energy,  that  night 
only  parted  the  combatants. 

Benedict  Arnold  and  Daniel  Morgan 
were  the  ruling  spirits  that  directed  the 
battle  on  the  part  of  the  Americans,  and 
the  gallant  General  Fraser  was  the  direct 
ing  soul  of  the  British  in  action.  His  skill 
and  courage  were  everywhere  conspicu 
ous.  He  was  mounted  upon  a  splendid 
iron-gray  gelding;  and,  dressed  in  the  full 
uniform  of  a  field  officer,  lie  was  a  promi 
nent  object  in  the  eyes  of  the  Americans. 
It  was  evident  that  the  fate  of  the  battle 
rested  upon  him,  and  this  the  keen  eye 
and  sure  judgment  of  Morgan  perceived. 
In  an  instant  his  purpose  was  conceived, 
and,  calling  a  file  of  his  best  men  around 
him,  he  said,  as  he  pointed  toward  the 


British  right,  "That  gallant  officer  is  Gen 
eral  Fraser.  I  admire  and  honor  him,  but 
it  is  necessary  he  should  die ;  victory  for 
the  enemy  depends  upon  him.  Take  your 
stations  in  that  clump  of  bushes,  and  do 
your  duty."  Within  five  minutes  Fraser 
fell,  mortally  wounded,  and  was  carried  to 
the  camp  by  two  grenadiers.  Just  previ 
ous  to  being  hit  by  the  fatal  bullet,  the 
crupper  of  his  horse  was  cut  by  a  rifle  ball, 
and  immediately  afterward  another  passed 
through  the  horse's  mane,  a  little  back  of 
his  ears.  The  aid  of  Fraser  noticed  this, 
and  said,  "  It  is  evident  that  you  are 
marked  out  for  particular  aim;  would  it 
not  be  prudent  for  you  to  retire  from  this 
place?"  Fraser  replied,  "My  duty  for 
bids  me  to  fly  from  danger,"  and  the  next 
moment  he  fell.  This  act  is  said  to  have 
been  originally  suggested  by  Arnold. 

After  this  battle,  Burgoyne  waited 
nearly  a  month  to  hear  from  General 
Clinton.  At  length  he  received  intelli 
gence,  but  it  was  of  such  a  nature  as  only 
to  increase  his  disappointments  and  ren 
der  his  situation  more  hopeless.  Driven 
to  extremity,  he  resolved  to  make  another 
effort  to  force  a  passage  to  Albany  by  his 
enemy's  left.  In  this  he  utterly  failed, 
and  his  troops  were  driven  back  to  their 
intrcnchmcnts,  being  pursued  with  eager 
ness  and  great  loss,  even  to  their  camp. 
The  Americans  had  now  acquired  an 
opening  on  the  right  and  rear  of  the 
British  army,  whose  situation  was  there 
fore  rendered  very  perilous.  Burgoyne 
now  operated  a  change  of  ground.  But 
General  Gates  had  taken  the  precaution 
to  station  strong  divisions  on  almost  every 
side,  to  prevent  the  enemy's  escape.  Bur 
goyne  then  retired  to  Saratoga,  but  so 
miserable  was  the  condition  of  his  army, 
that  it  occupied  nearly  two  days  to  effect 
this  small  movement  of  six  miles,  and  even 
left  his  hospital  in  the  hands  of  the  Ameri 
cans.  Hoping  to  cross  the  river  at  Sara 
toga,  and  retreat  to  the  lakes  to  save  his 
army,  he  soon  found  that  Fort  Edward,  on 
the  opposite  bank,  was  too  strongly  man 
ned  to  admit  of  his  attempting  any  such 
purpose;  thereupon  he  turned  his  atten- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


77 


tion  to  Fort  George,  in  hopes  of  crossing 
there.  lie  was  not  long  in  ascertaining, 
however,  that  there,  too,  the  Americans 
were  strongly  intrenched. 

General  Gates,  with  the  main  body  of 
the  American  army,  thirsting  for  battle, 
was  hard  upon  Burgoyne's  rear.  In  this 
state  of  affairs  it  was,  that  the  proud 
spirited  Briton  finally  relinquished  all 
expectation  of  saving  himself  by  his  own 


nature  of  the  ground,  could  not  be  at 
tacked; — such  was  the  extremity  that  pre 
sented  itself.  But  Burgoyne's  troops,  even 
while  the  rifle  and  grape  shot  fell  thickly 
around  them  in  this  forlorn  state,  retained 
their  ordinary  constancy,  and,  while  sink 
ing  under  war's  hard  necessity,  betrayed 
no  want  of  temper,  or  of  fortitude. 

Clinton's  effort  to  relieve  Burgoyne  was 
unsuccessful.     He  pushed  up  the  Hudson 


fe££> 


CAPITULATION  OF  BUBGOYNK'S  ARMY. 


efforts.  His  only  refuge  from  despair  was 
the  faint  possibility  of  co-operation  from 
the  parts  down  the  river;  and  he  looked 
for  the  aid  of  Clinton  with  the  most  in 
tense  desire.  His  army  was  in  a  pitiable 
condition.  Worn  out,  abandoned,  half 
their  number  slaughtered,  and  amongst 
them  the  most  distinguished  officers;  and 
invested  closely  by  a  much  greater  force, 
who  refused  to  fight  from  a  knowledge  of 
their  helpless  condition,  and  who,  from  the 


river,  captured  Forts  Montgomery  and 
Clinton,  after  a  brave  resistance  by  the 
American  garrison,  and  then,  with  wan 
ton  cruelty,  Sir  Henry  set  fire  to  houses 
and  buildings  of  every  description,  de 
stroying,  by  conflagration,  the  church  and 
every  other  building  in  the  beautiful  town 
of  Esopus.  After  the  capture  of  these  two 
forts,  Clinton  dispatched  a  messenger  by 
the  name  of  Daniel  Taylor,  to  Burgoyne, 
with  the  cheering  intelligence.  Fortu- 


78 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


nately,  he  was  taken  on  the  way  as  a  spy. 
Finding  himself  in  danger,  he  was  seen  to 
turn  aside  and  take  something  from  his 
pocket  and  swallow  it.  The  American 
commander  forthwith  ordered  a  severe 
dose  of  emetic  tartar  to  be  administered ; 
this  produced  the  effect — the  prisoner  dis 
charging  a  small  silver  hullet,  which,  on 
being  unscrewed,  was  found  to  inclose  a 
dispatch  to  Burgoyne.  "Out  of  thine 
own  mouth  thou  shalt  be  condemned." 
The  spy  was  tried,  convicted,  and  executed. 
Perceiving,  now,  that  all  the  passes  in 
his  rear  were  strongly  guarded,  and  that 
further  retreat  or  resistance  was  useless, 
Burgo3rne  called  a  council  on  the  fifteenth 
of  October.  While  the  council  was  qui 
etly  deliberating,  an  eighteen-pound  shot 
crossed  the  table,  and  they  resolved  unani 
mously  to  offer  terms  to  General  Gates. 
These  proposals  finally  resulted  in  the  ca 
pitulation  of  Burgoyne's  whole  army.  The 
news  of  the  capture  in  the  Highlands  is 
said  to  have  arrived  at  this  juncture,  which 
led  General  Burgoyne  to  temporize,  in  ex 
pectation  of  possible  relief  from  Sir  Henry 
Clinton.  Gates,  seeing  the  critical  mo 
ment,  drew  up  his  army  for  immediate  on 
set,  and  sent  in  a  flag,  demanding  a  reply 
in  ten  minutes.  The  exigency  was  immi 
nent,  and  Burgoyne  felt  it.  With  a  trem 
bling  hand  and  pallid  countenance  the 
proud  warrior  signed  the  treaty.  The 
surrender  was  duly  carried  into  effect  on 
the  seventeenth  of  October.  Burgoyne 
having  proposed  to  Wilkinson,  the  Ameri 
can  adjutant-general,  a  desire  to  be  intro 
duced  to  General  Gates,  they  crossed  the 
Fishkill,  and  proceeded  to  head-quarters 
on  horseback,  General  Burgoyne  in  front, 
with  his  adjutant-general  and  two  aids- 
de-camp  behind  him  ;  then  followed  Major- 
General  Phillips,  the  Baron  Riedesel,  and 
the  other  general  officers  and  their  suites, 
according  to  rank.  General  Gates,  ad 
vised  of  Burgoyne's  approach,  met  him  at 
the  head  of  the  American  camp,  Bur 
goyne  in  a  rich  royal  uniform,  and  Gates 
in  a  plain  blue  frock.  When  they  ap 
proached  nearly  within  sword's  length, 
they  reined  up  and  halted.  Adjutant- 


General  Wilkinson  then  formally  an 
nounced  the  names  of  the  gentlemen, 
whereupon  General  Burgoyne,  raising  his 
hat  most  gracefully,  said: 

"  The  fortune  of  war,  General  Gates, 
has  made  me  your  prisoner." 

"  I  shall  always  be  ready  to  bear  testi 
mony"  promptly  replied  the  conqueror, 
with  a  courtly  salute,  "  that  it  has  not 
been  through  any  fault  of  your  excellency." 

Major-General  Phillips  then  advanced, 
and  he  and  General  Gates  saluted  and 
shook  hands,  with  the  familiarity  of  old 
acquaintances.  The  Baron  Riedesel  and 
other  officers  were  introduced  in  their 
turn.  General  Gates,  with  great  delicacy, 
consented  to  an  arrangement  by  which  the 
American  soldiery  were  not  to  be  present 
when  the  British  army  underwent  the 
shame  and  humiliation  of  piling  their 
arms. 

The  trophies  which  were  gained  by  this 
great  victory,  were  five  thousand  seven 
hundred  and  ninety-one  prisoners,  a  train 
of  brass  artillery  immensely  valuable,  con 
sisting  of  forty-two  pieces  of  brass  can 
non,  besides  seven  thousand  muskets,  with 
seventy-two  thousand  cartridges,  and  an 
ample  supply  of  shot,  shells,  and  clothing 
for  seven  thousand  men,  with  a  large  num 
ber  of  tents  and  other  military  stores. 
The  American  army  numbered  about  three 
times  that  of  the  enemy. 

The  American  army  engaged  in  this 
victorious  enterprise,  contained  many  fine 
officers.  Schuyler  was  a  man  of  great 
good  sense  and  experience,  having  been 
an  officer  in  the  war  of  1755  to  1763. 
General  Morgan,  a  bold  and  intrepid  sol 
dier,  was  there,  rendering  most  conspicu 
ous  service.  Arnold's  heroism  never  shone 
more  brightly  than  in  the  various  ordeals 
through  which  he  passed  during  this  cam 
paign.  Lincoln,  too,  showed  himself  to  be 
valiant  and  discreet  even  in  the  most  try 
ing  exigencies.  Brooks's  share  in  this 
event  is  applauded  by  every  historian  of 
the  war,  as  is  likewise  the  honorable  career 
of  Dearborn  and  Hull.  The  other  Ameri 
can  generals,  who  may  be  named  in  this 
campaign,  are  Poor,  Learned,  Ten  Broeck, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


79 


Fellows,  Patterson,  Nixon,  and  Glover. 
Of  General  Gates,  the  central  figure  in 
this  great  act,  it  may  be  remarked,  that, 
though  unquestionably  a  man  of  talents, 
he  was  so  far  deficient  in  judgment  as  to 
be  influenced  by  the  arts  and  representa 
tions  of  those  who,  under  the  lead  of  Gen 
eral  Conway, — whose  offensive  conduct  in 
this  matter  finally  led  to  a  duel  between 
him  and  General  Cadwalader  —  were  en 
gaged  in  a  scheme  to  wrest  the  supreme 
command  of  the  revolutionary  army  from 
Washington  and  have  it  conferred  upon 
Gates.  At  this  very  time,  the  intrigue  of 
the  Conway  faction  was  at  its  height,  and 
the  officers  who  were  implicated  in  it 
seized  upon  the  occasion  to  strike  a  deci 
sive  blow.  The  disastrous  loss  of  the  battle 
just  fought  at  Germantown  they  charged 
to  Washington's  delaying  his  division  at 
the  Chew  House.  So  artful  and  persever 
ing  were  they  in  these  representations  of 
Washington's  incompetency,  and  so  bril 
liant  had  Gates's  military  repute  become 
by  the  magnificent  victory  with  which  he 
had  relieved  the  public  despondency,  that 
the  idea  began  to  prevail  in  the  minds  of 
many,  that  the  days  of  Washington's  as 
cendency  were  numbered  and  finished. 
Gates,  in  his  invidious  rivalry  of  Wash 
ington,  would  not  deign  to  communicate 
the  news  of  his  victory  to  the  latter,  but 
sent  a  courier  direct  to  congress  instead. 
It  was,  curiously  enough,  at  the  precise 
period  when  Washington's  star  had  be 
come  dimmed  by  military  reverses,  that 
the  rumor  was  found  circulating  through 
his  camp,  of  Burgoyne's  having  been  con 
quered  and  his  whole  army  taken  prison 
ers  by  General  Gates.  The  excitement 
became  intense,  and  all  were  on  the  watch 
for  news  from  the  north.  Several  days, 
however,  passed  away,  and  no  further  in 
telligence  was  received.  Washington,  of 
course,  had  heard  the  rumor,  and  doubtless 
appreciated  the  effect  it  would  have,  if 
true,  upon  public  opinion,  as  between  the 
merits  of  himself  and  Gates. 

Now,  it  so  happened  that  Washington's 
head-quarters  were  on  the  road  leading 
from  Germantown  to  York,  where  congress 


was  then  in  session.  On  the  forenoon  of 
Saturday,  October  eighteenth,  Colonel 
Pickering,  adjutant-general  of  the  army, 
was  there  transacting  business  with  Wash 
ington.  They  were  in  a  room  of  the  sec 
ond  story,  at  the  corner  of  the  house, 
looking  up  the  road  that  led  from  the 
north.  While  sitting  there,  a  horseman 
was  seen  approaching,  Avhose  appearance 
indicated  that  he  had  traveled  long  and 
from  far.  His  aspect,  his  saddle-bags, 
and  the  manner  of  his  movement,  indi 
cated  that  he  was  an  express-rider.  The 
attention  of  both  Washington  and  Picker 
ing  was  at  once  arrested.  They  took  it 
for  granted  that  he  must  be  bearing  dis 
patches  from  the  northern  army  to  con 
gress,  and  were  sure  that  he  could  inform 
them  whether  the  report  of  Burgoyne's 
surrender  was  well  founded.  As  he  ap 
proached  nearer,  Pickering  recognized  him 
as  an  officer  of  the  northern  army.  At 
Washington's  request,  he  ran  down  to  the 
door,  stopped  him,  and  conducted  him  up 
to  the  general's  room  with  his  saddle-bags. 
Washington  instantly  opened  them,  tore 
the  envelope  of  a  package,  spread  out  an 
announcement  of  the  victory  at  Saratoga 
and  Burgoyne's  surrender  to  General 
Gates,  and  attempted  to  read  it  aloud. 
As  he  read,  the  color  gradually  settled 
away  from  his  countenance,  his  hand 
trembled,  his  lips  quivered,  his  utterance 
failed  him — he  dropped  the  paper,  clasped 
his  hands,  raised  them  upward,  and,  thus 
transfixed,  was  for  several  moments  lost  in 
a  rapture  of  adoring  gratitude.  "While 
I  gazed,"  said  Colonel  Pickering,  "upon 
this  sublime  exhibition  of  sensibility,  I 
saw  conclusive  proof  that,  in  comparison 
with  the  good  of  his  country,  self  was  ab 
solutely  nothing  —  the  man  disappeared 
from  my  view,  and  the  very  image  and 
personification  of  the  patriot  stood  before 
me." 

Throughout  America,  the  joy  which  this 
victory  produced,  was  unbounded.  Indeed, 
the  contest  between  England  and  the 
United  States  was  believed  to  be  substan 
tially  decided.  Though  the  war  might  be 
kept  up  longer,  no  further  doubt  was  en- 


80 


OUR  FIRST  CENTUBY.— 1776-1876. 


tertained  of  the  success  with  which  the 
revolutionists'  efforts  would  be  ultimately 
crowned.  Nor  was  it  amongst  the  small 
est  advantages  expected  from  it,  that  it 
would  probably  decide  the  uncertain  and 
balancing  politics  of  foreign  courts,  anx 
ious  to  separate  America  from  Britain,  but 
apprehensive  of  the  hazards  to  be  encount 
ered  by  taking  open  part  in  the  \var.  The 
thanks  of  congress  were  voted  to  General 
Gates  and  his  army;  and  a  medal  of  gold, 
in  commemoration  of  this  great  event,  was 
ordered  to  be  struck,  to  be  presented  to 
him  by  the  president  of  congress,  in  the 
name  of  the  United  States. 

The  effect  produced  by  this  event  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Atlantic,  and  in  particu 
lar  on  the  British  cabinet  and  nation,  was 
prodigious.  It  seemed  to  remove  all  the 
delusive  hopes  of  easy  conquest  with  \\hich 
the  English  had  so  long  flattered  them 
selves,  and  suddenly  to  display  in  open 
view  the  mass  of  resistance  which  had  got 
to  be  encountered.  The  previous  disasters 
of  the  American  arms  had  induced  a  be 
lief  in  Europe,  even  among  the  friends  of 
the  colonists,  that  the  cause  of  independ 
ence  could  not  succeed.  The  rapid  ad 
vance  of  Burgoyne  into  the  interior,  the 
fall  of  the  important  fortress  of  Ticonder- 
oga,  and  the  boastful  announcements  of 
victory  continually  made  by  the  British 
and  circulated  all  over  Europe,  had  pro 
duced  a  general  impression  that  the  colo 
nists  were  virtually  subdued.  In  the 
midst  of  all  this,  came  the  unexpected 
and  astounding  intelligence  that  Bur 
goyne  and  all  his  forces  had  laid  down 
their  arms  in  submission  to  an  American 
general. 

On  the  evening  of  the  day  on  which  the 
ministry  received  their  private  dispatches 
containing  the  news,  a  rumor  of  their  con 
tents  had  got  into  the  house  of  commons, 
just  as  the  members  had  assembled.  One 
of  the  members  arose,  and  with  the  most 
imperative  earnestness  of  manner  ad 
dressed  the  treasury  benches,  demanding 
what  were  the  accounts  from  America 
Being  compelled  to  disclose  the  mortifving 
fact,  the  chancellor  of  the  exchequer  arose, 


and,  in  a  weak  and  faint  voice,  informed 
the  house  it  was  too  true  that  General  Bur 
goyne  and  his  army  were  prisoners  of  war. 

At  this  announcement,  a  storm  of  indig 
nation,  sarcasm,  reproach  and  invective, 
was  poured  upon  the  king's  ministers  by 
the  opposition  leaders,  who  overwhelmed 
them  with  the  bitterest  declamation  on 
their  imbecility,  rashness,  and  obstinacy. 
In  the  house  of  lords,  the  Earl  of  Chatham 
— the  foremost  man  of  the  realm — moved 
to  amend  the  address  in  answer  to  the 
speech  from  the  throne,  by  introducing  a 
clause  recommending  to  his  majesty  an 
immediate  cessation  of  hostilities,  and  the 
commencement  of  a  treaty  of  conciliation. 
He  vehemently  condemned  the  employ 
ment  of  merciless  savages  to  wage  a  "bar 
barous  war  against  our  brethren,"  and 
was  desirous  of  peace  on  any  terms  short 
of  the  dismemberment  of  the  empire. 
Such,  however,  was  the  infatuation  of  the 
court  and  ministry,  that  their  hostile  plans 
were  still  persevered  in,  the  government  de- 
claring  that  "if  ten  thousand  men  cannot 
conquer  America,  fifty  thousand  shall!" 
And  with  the  help  of  strong  majorities  in 
parliament,  more  supplies  were  raised,  new 
troops  levied,  and  the  war  carried  on. 

The  most  important  among  the  imme 
diate  consequences  of  Burgoyne's  surren 
der,  was  the  treaty  of  alliance  between 
America  and  France.  The  communica 
tion  of  this  important  intelligence  from 
the  American  commissioners  in  France, 
diffused  extreme  joy  throughout  the  Unit 
ed  States,  being  received  by  the  people  as 
the  harbinger  of  their  independence ;  and 
in  this  they  were  not  disappointed,  for  men, 
arms,  and  money  were  liberally  supplied 
by  their  generous  ally,  until  an  acknowl 
edgment  of  that  independence  was  wrung 
from  King  George.  Such,  then,  was  the 
part  played  by  that  army  which  had  ex 
cited  such  high  expectations  in  Britain, 
and  which,  at  first,  spread  alarm  and  dis 
may  throughout  the  United  States.  Poor 
Burgoyne,  returning  home  on  parole,  was 
ill  received.  The  king,  petulant  and  mor 
tified,  refused  to  see  him  ;  but  he  never 
had  a  more  faithful  servitor. 


III. 


FIRST  AMERICAN  NAVAL  VICTORY.— 1779. 


John  Paul  Jones,  Commanding  the  Bon  Homme  Richard,  Fights  and  Captures  King  George's  Power 
ful  Ship-of-War,  the  Serapis,  in  British  Waters. — Crowds  of  Spectators  Line  the  English  Coast. — The 
Most  Sanguinary  Battle  Ever  Fought  Between  Single  Ships. — Jones  is  Hailed  as  "  The  Washington 
of  the  Seas." — World-wide  Interest  of  this  Combat. — Commodore  Jones's  Early  Career. — Offers  his 
Services  to  Congress. — Appointed  a  Naval  Lieutenant. — Joins  the  Continental  Fleet. — The  First  to 
Hoist  its  Ensign. — Style  and  Motto  of  the  Flag. — Sails  from  France  on  a  Cruise. — Terror  Created  by 
his  Movements. — Characteristic  Anecdotes. — Two  British  Frigates  in  Sight. — Jones  Ready  for  Bloody 
Work. — The  Ships  Muzzle  to  Muzzle. — Superiority  of  the  Serapis. — A  Most  Deadly  Contest. — Both 
Vessels  on  Fire. —  Jones  Attacked  by  Another  Foe. — One  of  his  Vessels  Treacherous. — Remarkable 
Scenes. — Britain's  Flag  Struck  to  America. — An  Act  Without  Precedent. — Sinking  of  the  Victori 
ous  Vessel. 

"  The  most  obstinate  and  bloody  buttle  in  the  annals  of  naval  warfare."— J.  FENIMORE  COOPER. 


UCH  an  exploit  as  that  performed  by  John  Paul  Jones,  in  1779, 
by  which,  in  plain  sight  of  the  English  coast,  he  flung  to  the  breeze 
the  gallant  ensign  of  the  United  States,  and,  with  Britons  as  wit 
nesses  of  his  daring,  fought,  victoriously,  a  battle  which  has  always 
been  spoken  of  as  the  most  obstinate  and  sanguinary  combat  that 
ever  occurred  between  single  ships,  can  never  be  read  of  by  Ameri 
cans  with  other  than  the  deepest  and  most  enthusiastic  interest.     The 
A  victory  came,  too,  at  one  of  the  darkest  hours  in  the  revolutionary  cain- 
<;  paign,  and  served  to  gladden  and  encourage,  for  the  time  being,  the  de- 
|  spondent  hearts  of  honest  patriots.     The  vaunted   invincibleness  of  the 
;    British  navy  became  a  by-word  of  contumely,  the  world  over,  from  the 
time  Jones  nailed  his  flag  to  the  mast,  and,  under  the  calm 
sky  and  round  harvest  moon  of  September,  dealt  forth  a  storm 
of  death  and  desolation  upon  the  enemies  of  his  adopted  coun 
try.     The  action  may  well  be  pronounced  one  of  the  most 
terrible  on  record,  from  its  unusual  duration  for  a  naval  bat 
tle,  from  the  ferocity  which  the  combatants  displayed,  and 
from  the   proximity  of  the  two  vessels,  the   muzzles  of  the 
ships'  batteries  almost  reaching  into  each  other's  port-holes. 
John  Paul  was  born    in   Scotland,    on    the   sixth  day  of 
July,   1747,  and  the  scenery  and  associations  of  his  birth 
place—  Arbi gland— and    its   vicinity,    doubtless    encouraged 
that   restless    spirit  of   adventure   and  love    of   change,    as 
well  as  that  ardent  enthusiasm  in  the   objects  of   his  pur 
suit,  which  so  strikingly  characterized  his  career  through  life. 
'-'    At   the   age   of   twelve,  he  was  apprenticed   to  a  merchant 
HOISTING  FIRST  NAVAL  FLAG.     0£  \Vhitehaven,  who  carried    on  a  considerable  trade  with 
6 


82 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


the  American  colonies.  His  first  voyage 
was  made  before  be  was  thirteen  years  old, 
being  to  Virginia,  where  his  elder  brother 
was  established  as  a  planter.  He  was  after 
ward  engaged  for  a  short  time  in  the  slave 
trade,  which  he  left  in  disgust,  and  made  a 
number  of  voyages  to  the  West  Indies. 

In  1773,  John  Paul  removed  to  Virginia, 
to  attend  to  the  affairs  of  his  brother,  who 
had  died  childless  and  intestate.  He  now, 
for  some  unknown  reason,  assumed  the  ad 
ditional  surname  of  Jones,  and  which  he 
retained  through  life.  At  the  commence 
ment  of  the  revolutionary  conflict,  his  feel 
ings  became  warmly  enlisted  in  the  cause 
of  the  colonies,  and  this  spirit  fully  pre 
pared  him  for  the  active  part  he  soon  un 
dertook  in  their  behalf.  An  offer  of  his 
services,  which  he  made  to  the  colonies, 
was  accepted,  and,  on  the  twenty-second 
of  December,  1775,  by  a  resolution  of  con 
gress,  he  was  appointed  lieutenant  in  the 
American  navy. 

It  was  Lieutenant  Jones  who  hoisted, 
with  his  own  hands,  the  first  American 
naval  flag  on  board  the  American  frigate 
Alfred,  the  flag-ship,  the  national  ensign 
being  thus  for  the  first  time  displayed  from 
a  man-of-war.  The  circumstances  attend 
ing  this  interesting  occasion  are  stated  to 
have  been  as  follows :  The  Alfred  was  an 
chored  off  the  foot  of  Walnut  street,  Phila 
delphia.  On  a  brilliant  morning,  early  in 
February,  1776,  gay  streamers  were  seen 
fluttering  from  every  mast-head  and  spar 
on  the  river  Delaware.  At  nine  o'clock,  a 
full-manned  barge  thridded  its  way  among 
the  floating  ice  to  the  Alfred,  bearing  the 
commodore.  He  was  greeted  by  the  thun 
ders  of  artillery  and  the  shouts  of  a  multi 
tude.  When  he  reached  the  deck  of  the 
flag-ship,  Captain  Salstonstall  gave  a  sig 
nal,  and  Lieutenant  Jones  gallantly  pulled 
the  ropes  which  wafted  the  new  flag  mast 
head  high.  It  was  of  yellow  silk,  bearing 
the  figure  of  a  pine  tree,  and  the  signifi 
cant  device  of  a  rattlesnake  in  a  field  of 
thirteen  stripes,  with  the  ominous  legend, 
"Don't  tread  on  me!"  This  memorable 
act,  it  was  Jones's  high  honor  and  privilege 
to  perform  when  in  his  twenty-ninth  year; 


an  honor,  too,  of  which,  as  events  afterward 
proved,  he  was  fully  worthy. 

On  the  fourteenth  of  August,  1779,  Jones 
sailed  from  the  roadstead  of  Groix,  France, 
in  command  of  a  small  squadron,  consisting 
of  the  Bon  Homuie  Richard,  forty-two  guns, 
the  Alliance,  thirty-six  guns,  the  Pallas, 
thirty-two  guns,  the  Cerf,  twenty-eight 
guns,  and  the  Vengeance,  twelve  guns. 
Two  privateers  afterwards  joined  them,  but 
did  not  continue  with  them  till  the  end  of 
the  cruise.  The  efficiency  of  the  expedi 
tion  was  marred  by  a  want  of  subordination 
on  the  part  of  some  of  the  officers,  who  do 
not  appear  to  have  been  willing  to  yield 
prompt  obedience  to  orders.  Captain  Lan- 
dais,  of  the  Alliance,  habitually  disregarded 
the  signals  and  orders,  throughout  the 
cruise,  and,  towards  the  close,  committed 
acts  of  open  hostility  to  his  superior.  But, 
notwithstanding  the  difficulties  against 
which  he  had  to  contend,  Jones  inflicted 
great  damage  on  the  enemy ;  he  coasted 
Ireland,  England,  and  Scotland,  making 
many  prizes,  and  carrying  terror  wherever 
he  appeared. 

But  the  action  which  gave  the  most  dis 
tinguishing  renown  to  Jones's  brilliant  ca 
reer,  and  which  so  early  gave  prestige  to 
American  prowess  on  the  ocean,  is  that  of 
which  a  detailed  account  is  given  below  : 

It  was  about  noon,  on  the  twenty-third 
of  September,  1779,  a  fleet  of  over  forty 
sail  appeared  off  Flamborough  Head,  on 
the  coast  of  Yorkshire,  and  Jones  at  once 
gave  up  the  pursuit  of  a  vessel  in  whose 
track  he  was  just  then  following,  with  all 
possible  speed,  and  made  signals  for  a  gen 
eral  chase.  The  sails  in  sight  were  a  fleet 
of  English  merchantmen,  under  convoy  of 
the  ships-of-war  Serapis  and  Scarborough, 
and  as  soon  as  they  saw  themselves  pur 
sued  they  ran  in  shore,  while  their  convoys 
that  protected  them  bore  off  from  the  land 
and  prepared  for  an  engagement.  The 
Bon  Homme  Richard  set  every  stitch  of 
canvas,  but  did  not  come  into  fighting  po 
sition  toward  the  enemy  until  about  seven 
o'clock  in  the  evening,  at  which  time,  from 
the  darkness  having  set  in  somewhat,  ob 
jects  on  the  water  were  dimly  discerned, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


83 


though  not  with  such  difficulty  as  would 
have  been  the  case  had  not  the  moon 
shone  forth  with  great  brightness,  and  the 
weather  proved  serene  and  beautiful. 
When  within  pistol-shot,  the  hail  from  the 
Serapis,  "  What  ship  is  that  ? "  was 
answered,  "  I  can't  hear  you."  Captain 
Pearson  says  the  answer  was,  "  The  Prin 
cess  Royal."  A  second  hail  was  answered 
by  a  thundering  broadside  from  the  bat 
teries  of  the  Richard, — a  signal  that  in 
dicated  a  hot  and  bloody  encounter  at 
hand,  as  the  sequel  soon  proved. 

The  American  ship,  it  may  here  be  re 
marked,  was  much  inferior  to  her  antag 
onist,  being,  in  fact,  an  old  vessel,  clumsy, 
and     unmanageable.        She     carried     six 
eigh teen-pounders  on  the  lower  gun  deck, 
fourteen    twelve-pounders   and    fourteen 
nine-pounders  on  the  middle  gun  deck, 
two    six-pounders    on    the    quarter-gun 
deck,  two  six-pounders  on  the  spar  deck, 
one  six-pounder  in  each  gangway,  and  two 
six-pounders  on  the  forecastle.     She  was 
manned   by  three   hundred  and    eighty 
men  and  boys.    The  Serapis,  on  the  other 
hand,  was  a  new  ship,  built  in  the  best 
manner,  and  with  a  much  heavier  arma 
ment.      She  mounted  twenty  eighteen- 
pounders  on  her  lower  gun  deck,  twenty 
nine-pounders  on  her  upper  gun  deck,  six 
six-pounders  on  her  quarter  deck,  four 
six-pounders  on  the   forecastle  ;    and  she 
had  a  crew  of  some  three   hundred   and 
twenty  men. 

Captain  Cottineau,  of  the  Pallas,  en 
gaged  the  Scarborough,  and  took  her,  after 
an  hour's  action,  while  the  Bon  Homme 
Richard  engaged  the  Serapis. 

In  the  earlier  part  of  the  action,  the 
superior  sailing  qualities  of  the  Serapis 
enabled  her  to  take  several  advantageous 
positions,  which  the  seamanship  of  Paul 
Jones,  hampered  by  the  unmanageable 
character  of  his  craft,  did  not  enable  him 
to  prevent.  Thus  he  attempted  to  lay  his 
ship  athwart  the  enemy's  bows,  but  the 
bowsprit  of  the  Serapis  sweeping  over  the 
Richard's  poop,  was  grappled  and  lashed, 
and  her  stern  swung  round  to  the  bow  of  the 
Bon  Homme  Richard  by  the  action  of  the 


wind  ;  the  vessels  lay  yard-arm  and  yard- 
arm,  the  muzzles  on  either  side  actually 
touching  the  enemy.  But  long  before  this, 
many  of  the  eighteen-pound  shot  of  the 
Serapis  had  entered  the  Richard's  hull  be 
low  the  water-mark,  and  she  leaked  in  a 
threatening  manner.  Just  before  they 
closed,  Commodore  Pearson  hailed  his  ad 
versary  :  "  Has  your  ship  struck  ?  "  "I 
haven't  begun  to  fight  yet !  "  thundered 
forth  the  brave  Jones,  in  reply. 

A  novelty  in  naval  combats  was  now 
presented  to  many  witnesses,  but  few  ad 
mirers, — says  Lieutenant  Dale,  who  par 
ticipated  in  the  conflict, — the  rammers 
being  run  into  the  respective  ships  to  en 
able  the  men  to  load  after  the  lower  ports 
of  the  Serapis  had  been  blown  away,  to 


make  room  for  running  out  their  guns, 
and  in  this  situation  the  ships  remained 
until  between  ten  and  twelve  o'clock, 
P.  M.  From  the  commencement  to  the 
termination  of  the  action,  there  was  not  a 
man  on  board  the  Richard  who  was  igno 
rant  of  the  superiority  of  the  Serapis,  both 
in  weight  of  metal,  and  in  the  qualities  of 
the  crew.  The  crew  of  that  ship  were 
picked  seamen,  and  the  ship  itself  had 
been  only  a  few  months  off  the  stocks ; 
whereas  the  crew  of  the  Richard  consisted 
of  part  Americans,  English  and  French, 
and  a  part  of  Maltese, Portuguese,  and  Ma 
lays,  these  latter  contributing  by  their 
want  of  naval  skill  and  knowledge  of  the 
English  language,  to  depress  rather  than 
encourage  any  reasonable  hope  of  success 
in  a  combat  under  such  circumstances. 


84 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


85 


One  of  the  most  disheartening  facts  in 
the  early  part  of  the  action,  was  the  silenc 
ing  of  the  battery  of  twelve-pounders,  on 
which  Jones  had  placed  his  principal  de 
pendence. 

Brave  and  dauntless  sailor  as  he  was, 
Jones  stuck  to  his  little  battery,  and  stimu 
lated  his  men  with  word  and  example. 
While  one  of  the  nine-pounders  vomited 
double-headed  shot  against  the  mainmast 
of  the  Serapis,  the  two  others  swept  her 
decks  with  grape  and  canister.  The  fire 
was  so  hot  from  the  nine-pound  battery  and 
the  tops,  that  not  a  man  could  live  on  the 
deck  of  the  English  ship.  But  all  this 
while,  her  lower  battery  of  eighteen-pound- 
ers  was  making  an  awful  ruin  of  the  Rich 
ard.  The  terror  of  the  scene  was  also  soon 
heightened  beyond  the  power  of  language 
to  depict,  by  both  vessels  taking  fire,  which 
required  almost  superhuman  exertion  to 
subdue,  and,  in  the  midst  of  all,  Jones  and 
his  heroic  men  were  horror  stricken  to  see 
their  consort,  the  Alliance,  commanded  by 
Captain  Landais,  come  up  and  pour  a  full 
broadside  into  the  Richard's  stern !  The 
evidence  is  regarded  as  most  conclusive, 
that  Captain  L.'s  conduct  on  this  occasion 
was  not  due  to  any  mistake  on  his  part  in 
supposing  the  Richard  to  be  the  Serapis, 
but  to  his  personal  hostility  to  Jones. 
With  jealousy  and  treason  in  his  heart,  his 
plan  was  to  kill  Jones,  and,  capturing  the 
Serapis,  claim  the  victory  as  his.  But  the 
black-hearted  Frenchman  failed  in  his  plot. 
A  quantity  of  cartridges  on  board  the  Ser 
apis  was  set  fire  to  by  a  grenade  from 
Jones's  ship,  and  blew  up,  killing  or  wound 
ing  all  the  officers  and  men  abaft  the  main 
mast.  But  long  after  this  the  fight  went 
on  with  fury. 

At  last,  the  mainmast  of  the  Serapis  be 
gan  to  totter  to  its  fall — her  fire  slackened, 
and,  about  half-past  ten  o'clock,  the  British 
flag  was  struck,  and  Commodore  Pearson 
surrendered  his  sword  to  his  really  weaker 
foe.  In  going  through  the  formalities  of 
this  scene,  Pearson  displayed  much  irrita 
bility,  and,  addressing  Jones  as  one  who 
fought  under  no  recognized  flag,  said : 

"  It  is  painful  to  deliver  up  my  sword  to 


a  man  who  has  fought  with  a  halter  around 
his  neck." 

"Sir,"  replied  Jones,  good  humoredly, 
as  he  handed  back  the  weapon,  "you  have 
fought  like  a  hero,  and  I  make  no  doubt 
but  your  sovereign  will  reward  you  in  the 
most  ample  manner." 

True  enough,  the  gallant  Pearson  soon 
received  from  King  George  the  dignity  of 
knighthood  as  an  acknowledgment  of  his 
bravery  in  this  unparalleled  battle, — hear 
ing  of  which  honor,  Jones  is  said  to  have 
dryly  remarked  :  "  Well,  he  deserved  it ; 
and  should  I  have  the  good  fortune  to 
meet  with  him  again,  I  will  make  a  lord 
of  him ! " 

Another  episode  occurred  in  connection 
with  a  medical  officer, — the  surgeon  of  the 
Richard, — who  ran  up  from  the  cock-pit, 
in  great  fright  and  trepidation,  and  hur 
riedly  accosting  the  captain,  said :  "Are  you 
not  going  to  strike  the  colors  ?  Is  not  the 
ship  fast  sinking  ?  "  "  What !  doctor,"  re 
plied  Jones,  "  would  you  have  me  strike  to 
a  drop  of  water  ?  Here,  help  me  get  this 
gun  over ! "  The  doctor,  as  though  answer 
ing  a  sudden  professional  call,  was  soon 
retracing  his  steps  to  the  cock-pit. 

So  terribly  was  the  Richard  cut  to  pieces 
(being  an  old  ship),  that  it  was  found  im 
possible,  after  the  fight,  to  get  her  into 
port,  and,  the  wounded  being  removed,  she 
soon  after  sank. 

Jones  took  his  prizes  to  Holland,  and  it 
is  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  the  whole 
world  stood  astonished  at  his  bravery  and 
success. 

A  most  interesting  account  of  this  cele 
brated  battle  between  the  Serapis  and 
Richard  was  given,  soon  after  its  occur 
rence,  by  Commodore  Jones  himself,  a 
portion  of  which,  describing  in  his  own 
dramatic  style,  the  principal  scenes  during 
the  engagement,  is  given  below : 

On  the  morning  of  that  day,  September 
twenty-third,  the  brig  from  Holland  not  be 
ing  in  sight,  we  chased  a  brigantine  that  ap 
peared  laying  to,  to  windward.  About 
noon,  we  saw  and  chased  a  large  ship  that 
appeared  coming  round  Flamborough  Head 
from  the  northward,  and  at  the  same  time 


86 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-187(5. 


I  manned  and  armed  one  of  the  pilot  boats 
to  send  in  pursuit  of  the  brigantine,  which 
now  appeared  to  be  the  vessel  that  I  had 
forced  ashore.  Soon  after  this,  a  fleet  of 
forty -one  sail  appeared  off  Flamborough 
Head,  bearing  N.  N.  E.  This  induced  me 
to  abandon  the  single  ship  which  had  then 
anchored  in  Burlington  Bay  ;  I  also  called 
back  the  pilot  boat,  and  hoisted  a  signal 
for  a  general  chase.  When  the  fleet  dis 
covered  us  bearing  down,  all  the  merchant 
ships  crowded  sail  toward  the  shore.  The 
two  ships-of-war  that  protected  the  fleet  at 
the  same  time  steered  from  the  land,  and 
made  the  disposition  for  battle.  In  ap 
proaching  the  enemy,  I  crowded  every  pos 
sible  sail,  and  made  the  signal  for  the  line 
of  battle,  to  which  the  Alliance  paid  no  at 
tention.  Earnest  as  I  was  for  the  action, 
I  could  not  reach  the  commodore's  ship 
until  seven  in  the  evening,  being  then 
within  pistol-shot,  when  he  hailed  the  Bon 
Homme  Richard.  We  answered  him  by 
firing  a  whole  broadside. 

The  battle  being  thus  begun,  was  con 
tinued  with  unremitting  fury.  Every 
method  was  practiced  on  both  sides  to  gain 
an  advantage  and  rake  each  other ;  and  I 
must  confess  that  the  enemy's  ship,  being 
much  more  manageable  than  the  Bon 
Homme  Richard,  gained  thereby  several 
times  an  advantageous  situation,  in  spite 
of  my  best  endeavors  to  prevent  it.  As  I 
had  to  deal  with  an  enemy  of  greatly  su 
perior  force,  I  was  under  the  necessity  of 
closing  with  him,  to  prevent  the  advantage 
which  he  had  over  me  in  point  of  ma 
neuver.  It  was  my  intention  to  lay  the 
Bon  Homme  Richard  athwart  the  enemy's 
bow  ;  but  as  that  operation  required  great 
dexterity  in  the  management  of  both  sails 
and  helm,  and  some  of  our  braces  being 
shot  away,  it  did  not  exactly  succeed  to  my 
wish.  The  enemy's  bowsprit,  however, 
came  over  the  Bon  Hornme  Richard's  poop, 
by  the  mizzenmast,  and  I  made  both  ships 
fast  together  in  that  situation,  which  by 
the  action  of  the  wind  on  the  enemy's  sails, 
forced  her  stern  close  to  the  Bon  Homme 
Richard's  bow,  so  that  the  ships  lay  square 
alongside  of  each  other,  the  yards  being 


all  entangled,  and  the  cannon  of  each  ship 
touching  the  opponent's. 

I  directed  the  fire  of  one  of  the  three 
cannon  against  the  mainmast,  with  dou 
ble-headed  shot,  while  the  other  two  were 
exceedingly  well  served  with  grape  and 
canister  shot,  to  silence  the  enemy's  mus 
ketry  and  clear  her  decks,  which  was  at 
last  effected.  The  enemy  were,  as  I  have 
since  understood,  on  the  instant  of  calling 
for  quarter,  when  the  cowardice  or  treach 
ery  of  three  of  my  under-officers  induced 
them  to  call  to  the  enemy.  The  English 
commodore  asked  me  if  I  demanded  quar 
ter,  and  I,  having  answered  him  in  the 
most  determined  negative,  they  renewed 
the  battle  with  double  fury.  They  were 
unable  to  stand  the  deck ;  but  the  fire  of 
their  cannon,  especially  the  lower  battery, 
which  was  entirely  formed  of  ten-pound 
ers,  was  incessant ;  both  ships  were  set  on 
fire  in  various  places,  and  the  scene  was 
dreadful  beyond  the  reach  of  language. 
To  account  for  the  timidity  of  my  three 
under-officers,  I  moan  the  gunner,  the  car 
penter,  and  the  master-at-arms,  I  must 
observe,  that  the  two  first  were  slightly 
wounded,  and,  as  the  ship  had  received 
various  shots  under  the  water,  and 'one  of 
the  pumps  being  shot  away,  the  carpenter 
expressed  his  fears  that  she  would  sink, 
and  the  other  two  concluded  that  she  was 
sinking,  which  occasioned  the  gunner  to 
run  aft  on  the  poop,  without  my  knowl 
edge,  to  strike  the  colors.  Fortunately  for 
me,  a  cannon-ball  had  done  that  before,  by 
carrying  away  the  ensign-staff;  he  was 
therefore  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  sink 
ing,  as  he  supposed,  or  of  calling  for  quar 
ter,  and  he  preferred  the  latter. 

All  this  time  the  Bon  Homme  Richard 
had  sustained  the  action  alone,  and  the 
enemy,  though  much  superior  in  force, 
would  have  been  very  glad  to  have  got 
clear,  as  appears  by  their  own  acknowledg 
ments,  and  by  their  having  let  go  an  an 
chor  the  instant  that  I  laid  them  on  board, 
by  which  means  they  would  have  escaped, 
had  I  not  made  them  fast  to  the  Bon 
Homme  Richard. 

At  last,  at  half-past  nine  o'clock,  the  Al- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


87 


liance  appeared,  and  I  now  thought  the 
battle  at  an  end ;  but,  to  my  utter  aston 
ishment,  he  discharged  a  broadside  full 
into  the  stern  of  the  Bon  Homme  Richard. 
We  called  to  him  for  God's  sake  to  forbear 
firing  into  the  Bon  Homme  Richard ;  yet 
they  passed  along  the  off  side  of  the  ship, 
and  continued  firing.  There  was  no  pos 
sibility  of  his  mistaking  the  enemy's  ship 
for  the  Bon  Homme  Richard,  there  being 
the  most  essential  difference  in  their  ap 
pearance  and  construction.  Besides,  it  was 
then  full  moonlight.  The  Bon  Homme 
Richard  received  various  shots  under  wa 
ter  from  the  Alliance ;  the  leak  gained  on 
the  pumps,  and  the  fire  increased  much  on 
board  both  ships.  Some  officers  persuaded 


me  to  strike,  of  whose  courage  and  good 
sense  I  entertain  a  high  opinion.  My 
treacherous  master-at-arms  let  loose  all  my 
prisoners  without  my  knowledge,  and  my 
prospects  became  gloomy  indeed.  I  would 
not,  however,  give  up  the  point.  The  ene 
my's  mainmast  began  to  shake,  their  firing 
decreased  fast,  ours  rather  increased,  and 
the  British  colors  were  struck  at  half  an 
hour  past  ten  o'clock. 

This  prize  proved  to  be  the  British  ship- 
of-war,  the  Serapis,  a  new  ship  of  forty- 
four  guns,  built  on  the  most  approved  con 
struction,  with  two  complete  batteries,  one 
of  them  of  eighteen-pounders,  and  com 
manded  by  the  brave  Commodore  Richard 
Pearson. 


88 


OUK  FlltST  CESTUK1'.— 1770-1876. 


IV. 


THE   WONDERFUL   DARK  DAY.— 1780. 


The  Northern  States  wrapt  in  a  Dense  Black  Atmosphere  for  Fifteen  Hours. — The  Day  of  Judgment 
Supposed  to  have  Come. — Cessation  of  Labor. —  Religious  Devotions  Resorted  to. —  The  Herds 
Retire  to  their  Stalls,  the  Fowls  to  their  Roosts,  and  the  Birds  Sing  their  Evening  Songs  at  Noonday. — 
Science  at  Loss  to  Account  for  the  Mysterious  Phenomenon. — One  of  Nature's  Marvels. — Redness  of 
the  Sun  and  Moon. — Approach  of  a  Thick  Vapor. — Loud  Peals  of  Thunder. — Sudden  and  Strange 
Darkness. — Alarm  of  the  Inhabitants. — End  of  the  World  Looked  For.— Dismay  of  the  Brute  Crea 
tion. — An  Intensely  Deep  Gloom. — Difficulty  in  Attending  to  Business. — Lights  Burning  in  the 
Houses. — Vast  Extent  of  the  Occurrence. — Condition  of  the  Barometer. — Change  in  the  Color  of 
Objects. — Quick  Motion  of  the  Clouds. — Birds  Suffocate  and  Die.— The  Sun's  Disc  Seen  in  Some 
Places. — Oily  Deposit  on  the  Waters. — Impenetrable  Darkness  at  Night. — Incidents  and  Anecdotes. — 
Ignorant  Whims  and  Conjectures  — An  Unsolved  Mystery. 


"  The  Dark  Day  in  northern  America  was  one  ot  tl 
Thicli  philosophy  is  at  a  loss  to  explain."— UERSCIIEL. 


a  one  ot  those  wonderful  phenomena  of  nature  which  will  alwayi  be  read  of  with  intereit,  but 


DIFFICULTY  OF  TRAVELING. 


I/MOST,  if  not  altogether   alone,  as   the   most 
mysterious  and  as  yet  unexplained  phenome 
non  of  its  kind,  in  nature's  diversified  range  of 
events,  during   the   last   century,    stands   the 
Dark  Day  of  May  Nineteenth,  1780, — a  most 
unaccountable  darkening  of  the  whole  visible 
heavens    and  atmosphere  in  New  England. — 
which  brought  intense    alarm  and  distress  to 
multitudes  of  minds,  as  well  as  dismay  to  the 
brute  creation,  the  fowls  fleeing,  bewildered,  to 
their  roosts,  and  the  birds  to  their  nests,  and 
the  cattle   returning  to  their    stalls.     Indeed, 
thousands  of  the  good  people  of  that  day  be 
came  fully  convinced  that  the  end  of  all  things 
terrestrial  had   come ;  many  gave  up,  for  the 
time,  their  secular  pursuits,  and  betook  them 
selves  to  religious  devotions  ;  while  many  others  regarded 
the    darkness  as  not  only  a  token  of   God's   indignation 
against  the  various  iniquities  and  abominations  of  the  age, 
but  also  as  an  omen  of  some  future  destruction  that  might 
overwhelm  the  land— as  in  the  case  of  the  countries  men 
tioned  in  biblical  history,— unless  speedy  repentance  and 


90 


OUR  FIKST  CENTURY.— 1770-1876. 


reformation  took  place.  The  ignorant  in 
dulged  in  vague  and  wild  conjectures  as 
to  the  cause  of  the  phenomenon ;  and 
those  profounder  minds,  even,  that  could 
"gauge  the  heavens  and  tell  the  stars," 
were  about  equally  at  loss  for  any  rational 
explanation  of  the  event.  It  is  related 
that  the  Connecticut  legislature  was  in 
session  at  this  time,  and  that,  so  great  was 
the  darkness,  the  members  became  terri 
fied,  and  thought  that  the  day  of  judg 
ment  had  come ;  a  motion  was  conse 
quently  made  to  adjourn.  At  this,  Mr. 
Davenport  arose  and  said :  "  Mr.  Speaker, 
— It  is  either  the  day  of  judgment,  or  it 
is  not.  If  it  is  not,  there  is  no  need  of 
adjourning.  If  it  is,  I  desire  to  be  found 
doing  my  duty.  I  move  that  candles  be 
brought,  and  that  we  proceed  to  business." 
The  time  of  the  commencement  of  this 
extraordinary  darkness  was  between  the 
hours  of  ten  and  eleven  in  the  forenoon  of 
Friday,  of  the  date  already  named ;  and  it 
continued  until  the  middle  of  the  follow 
ing  night,  but  with  different  appearances 
at  different  places.  As  to  the  manner  of 
its  approach,  it  seemed  to  appear  first  of 
all  in  the  south-west.  The  wind  came 
from  that  quarter,  and  the  darkness  ap 
peared  to  come  on  with  the  clouds  that 
came  in  that  direction.  The  degree  to 
which  the  darkness  arose  varied  in  differ 
ent  localities.  In  most  parts,  it  became  so 
dense,  that  people  were  unable  to  read 
common  print  distinctly,  or  accurately  de 
termine  the  time  of  day  by  their  clocks  or 
watches,  or  dine,  or  manage  their  domes 
tic  affairs  conveniently,  without  the  light 
of  candles.  In  some  places,  the  degree  of 
darkness  was  just  about  equal  to  prevent 
ing  persons  seeing  to  read  ordinary  print 
in  the  open  air,  for  several  hours  together. 
The  extent  of  this  darkness  was  also  very 
remarkable.  It  was  observed  at  the  most 
easterly  regions  of  New  England;  west 
ward,  to  the  furthest  parts  of  Connecticut, 
and  at  Albany ;  to  the  southward,  it  was 
observed  all  along  the  sea  coasts ;  and  to 
the  north,  as  far  as  the  American  settle 
ments  extended.  It  probably  far  exceeded 
these  boundaries,  but  the  exact  limits  were 


never  positively  known.  With  regard  to 
its  duration,  it  continued  in  the  neighbor 
hood  of  Boston  for  at  least  fourteen  or  fif- 
teen  hours ;  but  it  was  doubtless  longer  or 
shorter  in  some  other  places.  The  appear 
ance  and  effects  were  such  as  tended  to 
make  the  prospect  extremely  dull,  gloomy, 
and  unnatural.  Candles  were  lighted  up 
in  the  houses;  the  birds,  in  the  midst 
of  their  blithesome  forenoon  enjoyments, 
stopped  suddenly,  and,  singing  their  even 
ing  songs,  disappeared,  and  became  si 
lent;  the  fowls  retired  to  their  roosts  ;  the 
cocks  were  crowing  in  their  accustomed 
manner  at  the  break  of  day;  objects  could 
not  be  distinguished  at  a  comparatively 
slight  distance;  and  everything  bore  the 
aspect  and  gloom  of  night, — to  say  noth 
ing  of  the  effect  upon  the  minds  of  the 
people,  which,  indeed,  was  quite  inde 
scribable. 

The  above  general  facts  concerning  this 
strange  phenomenon  were  ascertained, 
after  much  painstaking  inquiry,  soon 
after  its  occurrence,  by  Prof.  Williams,  of 
Harvard  College,  who  also  collected  to 
gether  some  of  the  more  particular  ob 
servations  made  in  different  parts  of  the 
country,  relative  to  the  remarkable  event. 
From  these  data  it  appears  that,  with  re 
gard  to  the  state  of  the  atmosphere  pre 
ceding  this  uncommon  darkness,  it  was 
noticed  in  many  sections,  for  several  days 
before,  that  the  air  seemed  to  be  of  a 
smoky  and  vaporous  character.  The  sun 
and  the  moon  exhibited  an  unusual  red 
ness  in  their  color,  and  divested  of  their 
usual  brightness  and  lucid  aspect ;  and 
this  obscuration  increased  as  they  ap 
proached  nearer  to  the  horizon.  This 
was  ascertained  to  have  been  the  case  in 
almost  all  parts  of  the  New  England 
states,  for  four  or  five  days  preceding  the 
nineteenth  of  May.  The  winds  had  been 
variable,  but  chiefly  from  the  south-west 
and  north-east.  The  thermometer  indi 
cated  from  forty  to  fifty-five  degrees.  The 
barometer  showed  a  somewhat  higher  range 
than  usual.  The  weather  had  been  fair 
and  cool  for  the  season. 

As  to  the  state  of  the  atmosphere  when 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


91 


the  darkness  came  on,  it  was  observable 
tliat  the  weight  or  gravity  of  it  was  grad 
ually  decreasing,  the  greater  part  of  the 
day.  According  to  the  observations  made 
at  Cambridge,  Mass.,  the  mercury  in  the 
barometer  was  found,  at  twelve  o'clock,  to 
stand  at  twenty-nine  inches,  seventy ;  in 
half  an  hour  after,  the  mercury  had  fallen 
the  one-hundredth  part  of  an  inch  ;  at  one 
o'clock,  it  was  twenty-nine  inches,  sixty- 
seven  ;  at  three  o'clock,  it  was  at  twenty- 
nine  inches,  sixty -five ;  at  eight  minutes 
past  eight,  it  was  at  twenty-nine  inches, 
sixty -four.  A  similar  course  of  barometri 
cal  observations  made,  at  the  same  time, 
in  another  part  of  the  state,  showed  as  fol 
lows  :  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the 
mercury  in  the  barometer  was  found  to  be 
at  twenty-nine  inches,  eighty-two  ;  as  soon 
as  the  darkness  began  to  appear  uncom 
mon,  that  is,  at  ten  minutes  past  ten,  the 
mercury  was  found  at  twenty-nine  inches, 
sixty-eight ;  at  quarter  before  eleven — the 
time  of  the  greatest  degree  of  darkness  in 
that  part  of  the  country — the  mercury  was 
at  twent3r-nine  inches,  sixty-seven,  the 
darkness  continuing  in  the  same  degree 
for  an  hour  and  a  half ;  at  fifteen  minutes 
past  twelve,  the  mercury  had  fallen  to 
twenty-nine  inches,  sixty-five,  and,  in  a 
few  minutes  after  this,  the  darkness  began 
to  abate ;  the  mercur}^  remained  in  this 
state  during  the  whole  evening,  without 
any  sensible  alteration.  At  half-past 
eight,  it  seemed  to  have  fallen  a  little,  but 
so  small  was  the  alteration,  that  it  was  at 
tended  with  some  uncertainty,  nor  did  it 
appear  to  stand  any  lower  three  hours 
later. 

From  these  observations,  it  is  certain 
that,  on  the  day  when  the  darkness  took 
place,  the  weight  or  gravity  of  the  atmos 
phere  was  gradually  decreasing  through 
the  whole  day.  Both  of  the  barometers 
in  use  were  instruments  of  superior  work 
manship,  and  consequently  to  be  depended 
on  as  to  the  accuracy  of  their  indications. 

The  color  of  objects  that  day,  is  another 
point  of  interest.  It  is  mentioned,  in  the 
record  of  observations  made  with  reference 
to  this  feature  of  the  phenomenon,  that 


the  complexion  of  the  clouds  was  com 
pounded  of  a  faint  red,  yellow  and  brown, 
— that,  during  the  darkness,  objects  which 
commonly  appear  green,  were  of  the  deep 
est  green,  verging  to  blue, — and  that  those 
which  appear  white,  were  highly  tinged 
with  yellow.  This  was  the  character  of 
the  observations,  as  given  by  almost  every 
one  who  made  any  record  of  the  day's  ap 
pearance.  But  Prof.  Williams  states  that, 
to  him,  almost  every  object  appeared  tinged 
with  yellow,  rather  than  with  any  other 
color;  and  this,  whether  the  thing  was 
near,  or  remote  from  the  eye. 

Another  element  of  peculiarity,  in  this 
remarkable  scene,  was  the  nature  and  ap 
pearance  of  the  vapors  that  were  then  in 
the  atmosphere.  Early  in  the  morning, 
the  weather  was  cloudy  ;  the  sun  was  but 
just  visible  through  the  clouds,  and  ap 
peared  of  a  deep  red,  as  it  had  for  several 
days  before.  In  most  places  thunder  was 
heard  a  number  of  times  in  the  morning. 
The  clouds  soon  began  to  rise  from  the 
south-west,  with  a  gentle  breeze,  and  there 
were  several  small  showers  before  eight 
o'clock  ;  in  some  places  there  were  showers 
at  other  hours,  throughout  the  day.  The 
water  that  fell  was  found  to  have  an  un 
usual  character,  being  thick,  dark,  and 
sooty.  One  observer,  in  the  eastern  part 
of  Massachusetts,  states,  in  this  connec 
tion,  that  the  strange  appearance  and 
smell  of  the  rain-water  which  people  had 
saved  in  tubs,  was  the  subject  of  universal 
and  wondering  remark.  On  examining 
the  water,  there  was  found  a  light  scum 
upon  it,  which,  on  being  rubbed  between 
the  thumb  and  finger,  seemed  to  resemble 
the  black  ashes  of  burnt  leaves ;  the  water 
also  gave  the  same  strong,  sooty  smell, 
which  characterized  the  air.  A  similar 
appearance,  in  this  respect,  manifested 
itself  in  other  localities;  it  was  especially 
exhibited  on  the  Merrimac  river,  large 
quantities  of  black  scum  being  seen  float 
ing  upon  the  surface  of  that  stream,  dur 
ing  the  day.  In  the  night,  the  wind 
veered  round  to  the  north-east,  and  drove 
this  substance  towards  the  south  shore; 
when  the  tide  fell,  the  matter  lay  for 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


many  miles  along  the  shore,  the  width  of 
the  deposit  beiug  some  four  or  five  inches. 
An  examination  of  a  considerable  quantity 
of  this  substance,  in  several  places,  failed 
to  show  anything  of  a  sulphurous  nature, 
either  in  its  taste,  color,  or  smell.  Prof. 
"Williams  states  that,  being  apprehensive 
as  to  whether  there  was  not  some  uncom 
mon  ingredient  in  the  air  that  day,  he  put 
out  several  sheets  of  clean  paper  in  the  air 
and  rain.  When  they  had  been  out  four  or 
five  hours,  he  dried  them  by  the  fire.  They 
were  much  sullied,  and  became  dark  in 
their  color,  and  felt  as  if  they  had  been 
rubbed  with  oil  or  grease  ;  but,  upon  burn 
ing  them,  there  could  not  be  detected  any 
sulphurous  or  nitrous  particles. 

The  motion  and  situation  of  the  cur 
rents  or  bodies  of  vapor  in  the  atmosphere 
likewise  exhibited  some  striking  peculiar 
ities.  In  most  places,  it  was  very  evident 
that  the  vapors  were  descending  from  the 
higher  parts  of  the  atmosphere  towards 
the  surface  of  the  earth.  A  gentleman 
who  made  some  special  observations  bear 
ing  upon  this  point,  mentions  a  very  curi 
ous  circumstance,  as  to  their  ascent  and 
situation,  namely,  that  at  about  nine 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  after  a  slumer, 
the  vapors  rose  from  the  springs  in  the 
low  lands,  in  great  abundance;.  Notice 
was  taken  of  one  large  column  that  as 
cended,  with  great  rapidity,  to  a  consid 
erable  height  above  the  highest  hills,  and 
soon  spread  into  a  large  cloud,  then  moved 
off  a  little  to  the  westward.  A  second 
cloud  was  formed  in  the  same  manner, 
from  the  same  springs,  but  did  not  ascend 
so  high  as  the  first;  and  a  third  was 
formed  from  the  same  places,  in  less  than 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  after  the  second. 
About  three-quarters  of  an  hour  after 
nine  o'clock,  these  clouds  exhibited  a  very 
striking  appearance.  The  upper  cloud 
wore  a  peculiar  reddish  hue ;  the  second 
showed  in  some  places  or  parts  a  green,  in 
others  a  blue,  and  in  others  an  indigo 
color;  while  the  surface  of  the  third  cloud 
was  almost  white. 

Of  a  somewhat  singular  nature,  also,  is 
the  fact,  as  related  by  another,  that,  while 


the  darkness  continued,  the  clouds  were  in 
quick  motion,  interrupted,  skirted  one  over 
another,  so  as  to  form — at  least  to  the  eye 
of  the  beholder — a  considerable  number  of 
strata,  the  lower  stratum  being  of  an  uni 
form  height  as  far  as  visible;  but  this  height 
was  conceived  to  be  very  slight,  from  the 
small  extent  of  the  horizon  that  could  be 
seen,  and  from  this  circumstance  observed 
in  the  evening.  A  lighted  torch,  held  by 
a  person  passing  along  the  street,  occa 
sioned  a  reflection  of  a  faint  red  or  coppcr- 
tinged  light  —  similar  to  a  faint  aurora 
borealis,  —  the  apparent  height  at  which 
the  reflection  was  made,  being  some  twenty 
to  thirty  feet.  And  it  was  generally  re 
marked,  that  the  hills  might  be  seen  at  a 
distance  in  some  directions,  while  the  in 
termediate  spaces  were  greatly  obscured 
or  darkened. 

It  would  thus  appear,  from  the  state 
ments  now  cited,  as  if  the  vapors,  in  some 
places,  were  ascending  ;  in  most,  descend 
ing;  and,  in  all,  very  near  to  the  surface 
of  the  earth.  To  this  it  may  be  added, 
that,  during  the  darkness,  objects  seem 
ingly  cast  a  shade  in  every  direction,  and, 
in  many  instances,  there  were  various 
appearances  or  corruscations  in  the  atmos 
phere,  not  unlike  the  aurora  borealis, — 
though  it  is  not  stated  that  any  uncom 
mon  exhibitions  of  the  electric  fire  were 
witnessed  during  the  day.  In  some  ac 
counts,  however,  it  is  mentioned  that  a 
number  of  small  birds  were  found  suffo 
cated  by  the  vapor ;  some  were  found  dead, 
and  some  flew  affrighted,  or  stupefied,  into 
the  houses. 

In  New  Haven,  Conn.,  there  was  a 
shower  of  rain,  with  some  lightning  and 
thunder,  about  daybreak  in  the  morning, 
the  rain  continuing,  Avith  intervals,  until 
after  sunrise.  The  morning  was  cloudy 
and  darkish ;  and  the  sun,  rising  towards 
the  zenith,  gave  no  increase  of  light,  as 
usual,  but,  on  the  contrary,  the  darkness 
continued  to  increase  until  between  eleven 
and  twelve  o'clock,  at  which  time  there 
was  the  greatest  obscurity  in  that  place. 
What  little  motion  of  the  air  there  was 
just  at  this  period,  was  nearly  from  the 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


93 


south  ;  though  the  atmosphere  was  as  calm 
as  the  blandest  summer  morning.  There 
was  something  more  of  a  luminous  appear 
ance  in  the  horizon,  than  in  the  hemi 
sphere  in  general ;  also,  a  most  marked 
liveliness  of  tint  to  the  grass  and  other 
green  vegetation ;  and  a  very  noticeable 
yellowness  in  the  atmosphere,  which  made 
clean  silver  nearly  resemble  the  color  of 
brass.  At  about  twelve  o'clock,  noon,  the 
singular  obscuration  ceased;  the  greatest 
darkness,  at  any  particular  time,  was  at 
least  as  dense  as  what  is  commonly  called 
'  candlelighting,'  in  the  evening.  In  the 
town  of  Hartford,  and  the  neighboring 
villages,  the  phenomenon  was  observed 
with  all  its  distinctive  peculiarities ;  and, 
by  some  persons,  the  disc  of  the  sun  was 
seen,  at  the  time  of  the  greatest  deficiency 
of  light. 


such  buildings.  At  twelve,  the  darkness 
was  greatest,  and  a  little  rain  fell ;  in  the 
street,  the  aspect  was  like  that  at  the  be 
ginning  of  evening,  as  lights  were  seen 
burning  in  all  the  houses.  The  clouds 
were  thinnest  at  the  north;  at  the  north 
east,  the  clouds  were  very  thick,  and  so 
low  that  hills  could  not  be  seen  at  the  dis 
tance  of  half  a  mile  ;  south-westerly,  hills 
might  be  clearly  seen  at  the  distance  of 
twenty  miles,  though  the  intermediate 
space  was  so  shaded  that  it  was  impossi 
ble  to  distinguish  woodland  from  pasture. 
At  half-past  twelve,  the  clouds,  having 
been  hitherto  detached,  began  to  concen 
trate  at  such  an  height,  that  all  the  hills 
became  visible,  and  the  country  around 
exhibited  a  most  beautiful  tinted  verdure  ; 
at  one,  the  clouds  became  uniformly 
spread,  and  the  darkness  was  not  greater 


CHANGE   OF  SCENE   AFTER  THE  DARK   DAY. 


In  Middlesex  county,  Mass.,  the  peals 
of  thunder  were  loud  and  frequent  at  six 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  attended  with 
heavy  rain ;  at  seven  o'clock,  the  rain  and 
thunder  had  ceased,  but  the  sky  contin 
ued  cloudy.  Between  nine  and  ten  o'clock, 
the  clouds  were  observed  to  thicken,  and 
to  receive  continual  accessions  from  the 
low  lands.  Before  ten,  the  darkness  had 
sensibly  increased,  till  it  became  difficult 
to  read  an  almanac  in  a  room  having  two 
windows ;  at  eleven  o'clock,  candles  were 
lighted,  and  at  half-past  eleven  the  dark 
ness  was  so  great  in  the  meeting-house, 
where  a  court  was  then  sitting,  that  it 
was  difficult  to  distinguish  countenances 
at  the  smallest  distance,  notwithstanding 
the  large  number  of  windows  usual  in 


than  is  usual  on  a  cloudy  day  The  same 
weather  continued  through  the  whole 
afternoon,  except  that  the  sun  was  seen 
for  a  few  minutes,  in  some  places,  about 
three  o'clock.  At  eight  in  the  evening, 
the  darkness  was  so  impenetrably  thick, 
as  to  render  traveling  positively  imprac 
ticable ;  and,  although  the  moon  rose 
nearly  full  about  nine  o'clock,  yet  it  did 
not  give  light  enough  to  enable  a  person 
to  distinguish  between  the  heavens  and 
the  earth. 

In  the  account  of  this  phenomenon  given 
by  Dr.  Tenney,  of  New  Hampshire,  an  in 
telligent  observer  and  writer,  are  some 
interesting  details,  gathered  by  him  while 
on  a  journey  to  Pennsylvania,  from  the 
east.  He  repeats  and  confirms  the  state- 


94 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-187G. 


meat  made  by  others,  that,  previously  to 
the  commencement  of  the  darkness,  the 
sky  was  overcast  with  the  common  kind 
of  clouds,  from  which  there  was,  in  some 
places,  a  moderate  fall  of  rain.  Between 
these  and  the  earth,  there  intervened  an 
other  stratum,  apparently  of  great  thick 
ness  ;  as  this  stratum  advanced,  the  dark 
ness  commenced,  and  increased  with  its 
progress  till  it  came  to  its  height,  which 
did  not  take  place  till  the  hemisphere 
was  a  second  time  overspread — the  uncom 
mon  thickness  of  this  second  stratum  be 
ing  probably  occasioned  by  two  strong  cur 
rents  of  wind  from  the  southward  and 
westward,  condensing  the  vapors  and 
drawing  them  to  the  north-east. 

The  result  of  Dr.  Tenney'a  journey, — 
during  which  he  made  the  best  use  of  his 
opportunities  for  information, — was,  that 
the  darkness  appeared  to  be  most  gross  in 
Essex  county,  Massachusetts,  the  lower 
part  of  the  state  of  New  Hampshire,  and 
in  portions  of  what  was  then  the  province 
of  Maine.  In  Rhode  Island  and  Connect 
icut  it  was  not  so  great,  and  still  less  in 
New  York ;  in  New  Jersey,  the  second 
stratum  of  clouds  was  observed,  but  it  was 
not  of  any  great  thickness,  nor  was  the 
darkness  very  uncommon ;  in  the  lower 
parts  of  Pennsylvania,  no  extraordinary 
scene  was  noticed. 

Through  the  whole  extent  of  country 
referred  to,  the  lower  cloud-stratum  had 
an  uncommon  brassy  hue,  while  the  earth 
and  trees  were  adorned  with  so  enchant 
ing  a  verdure  as  could  not  escapo  notice, 
even  amidst  the  unusual  atmospheric 
gloom  that  accompanied  it.  The  dark 
ness  of  the  following  evening  was  proba 
bly  as  deep  and  dense  as  ever  had  been  ob 
served  since  the  Almighty  fiat  gave  birth 
to  light;  it  wanted  only  palpability  to  ren 
der  it  as  extraordinary  as  that  which  over 
spread  the  land  of  Egypt,  in  the  days  of 
Moses.  If  every  luminous  body  in  the 
universe  had  been  shrouded  in  impenetra 
ble  shades,  or  struck  out  of  existence,  it 
was  thought  the  darkness  could  not  have 
been  more  complete.  A  sheet  of  white 
paper,  held  within  a  few  inches  of  the 


eyes,  was  equally  invisible  with  the  black 
est  velvet.  And,  considering  the  small 
quantity  of  light  that  was  transmitted 
by  the  clouds,  during  the  day,  it  is  not 
surprising  that,  at  night,  a  sufficient  quan 
tity  of  rays  should  not  be  able  to  penetrate 
the  same  strata,  brought  back  by  tha  shift 
ing  of  the  winds,  to  afford  the  most  ob 
scure  prospect  even  of  the  best  reflecting 
bodies.  The  denseness  of  this  evening 
darkness  was  a  fact  universally  observed 
and  recorded. 

In  view  of  all  the  information  contained 
in  the  various  accounts  of  this  day,  it  ap 
pears  very  certain  that  the  atmosphere 
was  charged  with  an  unprecedented  quan 
tity  of  vapor, — from  what  primary  cause 
has  never  been  satisfactorily  determined; 
and  as  the  weather  had  been  clear,  the  air 
heavy,  and  the  winds  small  and  variable 
for  many  days,  the  vapors,  instead  of  dis 
persing,  must  have  been  constantly  rising 
and  collecting  in  the  air,  until  the  atmos 
phere  became  highly  charged  with  them. 

A  large  quantity  of  the  vapors,  thus 
collected  in  the  atmosphere,  on  the  day  in 
question,  was  floating  near  the  surface  of 
the  earth.  Wheresoever  the  speciiic  grav 
ity  of  any  vapor  is  less  than  the  specific 
gravity  of  the  air,  such  a  vapor  will,  by 
the  law  of  fluids,  ascend  in  the  air ;  where 
the  specific  gravity  of  a  vapor,  in  the  at 
mosphere,  is  greater  than  that  of  the  air, 
such  a  vapor  will  descend ;  and  where  the 
specific  gravity  of  the  vapor  and  air  are 
the  same,  the  vapor  will  then  be  at  rest, — 
floating  or  swimming  in  the  atmosphere, 
without  ascending  or  descending.  From 
the  barometrical  observations,  it  appears 
that  the  weight  or  gravity  of  the  atmos 
phere  was  gradually  growing  less,  from 
the  morning  of  the  nineteenth  of  May, 
until  the  evening;  and  hence  the  vapors, 
in  most  places,  were  descending  from  the 
higher  parts  of  the  atmosphere,  towards 
the  surface  of  the  earth.  According  to 
one  of  the  observations  cited,  the  vapors 
were  noticed  to  ascend,  until  they  rose  to 
a  height  where  the  air  was  of  the  same 
specific  gravity — a  height  not  much  above 
the  adjacent  hills,  —  and  here  they  in- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


stantly  spread,  and  floated  in  the  atmos 
phere.  From  these  data,  the  conclusion 
is  drawn,  that  the  place  where  the  vapors 
were  balanced  must  have  been  very  near 
the  surface  of  the  earth. 

Reasoning  from  the  premises  thus  set 
forth,  Prof.  Williams  was  of  the  opinion 
that  such  a  large  quantity  of  vapor,  float 
ing  in  the  atmosphere,  near  the  earth's 
surface,  might  be  sufficient  to  produce  all 
the  phenomena  that  made  the  nineteenth 
of  May,  1780,  so  memorable.  Thus,  the 
direction  in  which  the  darkness  came  on 
would  be  determined  by  the  direction  of 
the  wind,  and  this  was  known  to  be  from 
the  south-west;  the  degree  of  the  dark- 
ness  would  depend  on  the  density,  color, 
and  situation  of  the  clouds  and  vapor,  and 
the  manner  in  which  they  would  transmit, 
reflect,  refract,  or  absorb  the  rays  of  light; 
the  extent  of  the  darkness  would  be  as 
great  as  the  extent  of  the  vapor ;  and  the 
duration  of  it  would  continue  until  the 
gravity  of  the  air  became  so  altered  that 
the  vapors  would  change  their  situation, 
by  an  ascent  or  descent;  —  all  of  which 
particulars,  it  is  claimed,  agree  with  the 
observations  that  have  been  mentioned. 
Nor  does  the  effect  of  the  vapors,  in  dark 
ening  terrestrial  objects,  when  they  lay 
near  the  surface  of  the  earth,  appear  to 
have  been  greater  than  it  was  in  darken 
ing  the  sun  and  moon,  when  their  situa 
tion  was  higher  in  the  atmosphere. 

It  being  thus  evident  that  the  atmos 
phere  was,  from  some  peculiar  cause  (per 
haps  great  fires  in  di;-tant  woods)  charged, 
in  a  high  degree,  with  vapors,  and  that 
these  vapors  were  of  different  densities 
and  occupied  different  heights, — the  de 
duction  is,  that  by  this  means  the  rays  of 
light  fulling  on  them  must  have  suffered  a 
variety  of  refractions  and  reflections,  and 
thereby  become  weakened,  absorbed,  or  so 
reflected,  as  not  to  fall  upon  objects  on  the 
•earth  in  the  usual  manner;  and  as  the 
different  vapors  were  adapted  by  their 
nature,  situation,  or  density,  to  absorb  or 
transmit  the  different  kind  of  rays,  so  the 
colors  of  objects  would  appear  to  be  af 
fected  by  the  mixture  or  prevalence  of 


those  rays  which  were  transmitted  through 
so  uncommon  a  medium.  This  was  the 
explanation  suggested  by  Prof.  Williams, 
though  not  to  the  exclusion  of  other  the 
ories. 

But  there  were  not  wanting  those — and 
a  large  number  they  were  too — who  gave 
play,  in  their  minds,  to  the  most  strange 
opinions  concerning  the  cause  of  so  mar 
velous  an  appearance.  It  was  imagined 
by  some  persons,  that  an  eclipse  of  the 
sun,  produced  of  course  by  an  interposition 
of  the  moon,  was  the  cause  of  the  darkness 
— others  attributed  it  to  a  transit  of  Venus 
or  Mercury  upon  the  disc  of  the  sun — 
others  imputed  it  to  a  blazing  star,  which 
they  thought  came  between  the  earth  and 
the  sun.  So  whimsical,  indeed,  were  some 
of  the  opinions  which  possessed  men's 
minds  at  this  time,  that  even  so  bare  a 
vagary  as  that  a  great  mountain  obstructed 
the  rays  of  the  sun's  light  during  that 
day,  obtained  advocates  !  Whether  they 
thought  that  a  new  mountain  was  created 
and  placed  between  the  earth  and  the  sun, 
or  that  a  mountain  from  this  globe  had 
taken  flight  and  perched  upon  that  great 
luminary,  does  not  appear. 

That  this  darkness  was  not  caused  by 
an  eclipse,  is  manifest  by  the  various  posi 
tions  of  the  planetary  bodies  at  that  time, 
for  the  moon  was  more  than  one  hundred 
and  fifty  degrees  from  the  sun  all  that 
day,  and,  according  to  the  accurate  calcu 
lations  made  by  the  most  celebrated  as 
tronomers,  there  could  not,  in  the  order  of 
nature,  be  any  transit  of  the  planet  Venus 
or  Mercury  upon  the  disc  of  the  sun  that 
year ;  nor  could  it  be  a  blazing  star — much 
less  a  mountain, — that  darkened  the  at 
mosphere,  for  this  would  still  leave  unex 
plained  the  deep  darkness  of  the  following 
night.  Nor  would  such  excessive  noc 
turnal  darkness  follow  an  eclipse  of  the 
sun;  and  as  to  the  moon,  she  was  at  that 
time  more  than  forty  hours'  motion  past 
her  opposition. 

One  of  the  theories,  looking  to  a  solution 
of  the  mysterious  occurrence,  which  found 
defenders,  was  as  follows :  The  heat  of  the 
sun  causes  an  ascent  of  numerous  particles 


96 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


which  consist  of  different  qualities,  such  as 
aqueous,  sulphurous,  bituminous,  salinous, 
etc. ;  hence  the  waters  of  the  seas,  rivers, 
and  ponds ;  the  fumes  of  burning  volca 
noes,  caused  by  subterraneous  veins  of 
liquid  fire ;  all  the  other  kinds  of  smoke — 
fat,  combustibles,  oily  matter  from  various 
kinds  of  earth,  the  juice  of  trees,  plants 
and  herbs ;  salinous  and  nitrous  particles 
from  salt,  snowwater,  and  kindred  sources  ; 
— these  are  exhaled  into  the  regions  of  the 
air,  where  their  positions  are  subject  to 
various  mutations  or  changes  by  reason  of 
the  motion  and  compression  of  the  air, 
causing  them  to  be  sometimes  rarefied  and 
sometimes  condensed.  It  was  (according 
to  this  theory,)  a  vast  collection  of  such 
particles  that  caused  the  day  of  darkness ; 
that  is,  the  particles,  after  being  exhaled, 
were  driven  together  by  certain  winds 
from  opposite  points  of  the  compass,  and 
condensed  to  such  a  degree  by  the  weight 
of  the  earth's  atmosphere,  that  they  ob 
structed  the  appearance  of  the  rays  of  the 
sun  by  day,  and  those  of  the  moon  by 
night. 

Having  thus  presented  the  facts  and 
circumstances  pertaining  to  this  notable 
day  in  the  history  of  the  New  England  or 
northern  states,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to 
add,  that  a  similar  day  of  mysterious  dark 
ness  occurred  on  October  21,  1716;  the 
day  was  so  dark,  that  people  were  forced 
to  light  candles  to  dine  by, — a  darkness 
which  could  not  proceed  from  any  eclipse, 
a  solar  eclipse  having  taken  place  on  the 
fourth  of  that  month.  There  was  also  a 
remarkable  darkness  at  Detroit  and  vicin 
ity,  October  19, 1762,  being  almost  total  for 
the  greater  part  of  the  day.  It  was  dark 
at  day-break,  and  this  continued  until  nine 
o'clock,  when  it  cleared  up  a  little,  and,  for 
the  space  of  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
the  body  of  the  sun  was  visible,  it  appear 
ing  as  red  as  blood,  and  more  than  three 


times  as  large  as  usual.  The  air,  all  this 
time,  was  of  a  dingy  yellowish  color.  At 
half-past  one  o'clock,  it  was  so  dark  as  to 
necessitate  the  lighting  of  candles,  in 
order  to  attend  to  domestic  duties.  At 
about  three  in  the  afternoon,  the  darkness 
became  more  dense,  increasing  in  intensity 
until  half-past  three,  when  the  wind 
breezed  up  from  the  southwest  and  brought 
on  a  slight  fall  of  rain,  accompanied  with 
a  profuse  quantity  of  fine  black  particles, 
in  appearance  much  like  sulphur,  both  in 
smell  and  quality.  A  sheet  of  clean  paper, 
held  out  in  this  rain,  was  rendered  quite 
black  wherever  the  drops  fell  upon  it ;  but, 
when  held  near  the  fire,  it  turned  to  a  yel 
low  color,  and,  when  burned,  it  fizzed  on 
the  paper,  like  wet  powder.  So  black  did 
these  powdery  particles  turn  everything 
upon  which  they  fell,  that  even  the  river 
was  covered  with  a  black  froth,  which, 
when  skimmed  off  the  surface,  resembled 
the  lather  of  soap,  with  this  difference,  that 
it  was  more  greasy,  and  its  color  as  black 
as  ink.  At  seven,  in  the  evening,  the  air 
was  more  clear.  This  phenomenon  was 
observed  throughout  a  vast  region  of  coun 
try  ;  and,  though  various  conjectures  were 
indulged  in,  as  to  the  cause  of  so  extraor 
dinary  an  occurrence,  the  same  degree  of 
mystery  attaches  to  it  as  to  that  of  1780, — 
confounding  the  wisdom  even  of  the  most 
learned  philosophers  and  men  of  science. 

It  may  easily  be  imagined,  that,  as  the 
deep  and  mysterious  darkness  which  cov 
ered  the  land  on  the  memorable  nineteenth 
of  May  filled  all  hearts  with  wonder — and 
multitudes  with  fear, — so,  the  return,  at 
last,  of  that  brightness  and  beauty  charac 
teristic  of  the  month  and  of  the  season, 
brought  gladness  again  to  the  faces  of  the 
young,  and  composure  to  the  hearts  of  the 
aged ;  for  never  before  did  nature  appear 
clothed  in  so  charming  an  attire  of  sun 
shine,  sky  and  verdure. 


V. 

TREASON  OF  MAJOR-GENERAL  BENEDICT  ARNOLD.— 1780. 


Darkest  Page  in  American  Revolutionary  History. — Plot  to  Deliver  West  Point,  the  Gibraltar  of  Amer 
ica,  Over  to  the  British. — Movements  of  the  Guilty  Parties — Discovery  and  Frustration  of  the  Crime. 
—Major  Andre,  the  British  Spy,  is  Captured,  and  Swings  from  a  Gibbet. — Escape  of  Arnold  to  the 
Enemy. — Is  Spurned  and  Isolated  in  England. — Arnold's  Unquestioned  Bravery. — Commended  by 
General  Washington — Infamous  Personal  Transactions — Reprimanded  by  his  Chief. — Determines  on 
Revenge. — Correspondence  with  the  Foe. — Ingratiates  Washington's  Favor  Again.— Obtains  Com- 
mand  of  West  Point — Midnight  Conference  with  Andre — Andre  Seized  while  Returning — Astound 
ing  Evidence  Against  Him — Attempts  to  Bribe  His  Captors. — Carried  to  American  Head-Quarters  — 
Arnold  Apprised  of  the  Event. — A  Hurried  Farewell  to  His  Wife. — Quick  Pursuit  of  the  Traitor. — 
He  Readies  a  British  Man-of- War.— Washington's  Exclamation  at  the  News — His  Call  on  Mrs.  Ar 
nold — Andre's  Trial  and  Conviction. — Arnold's  Reward  for  His  Crime. — His  Unlamented  Death. 


"Providence,  which  has  so  often  nnd  «o  remarkably  interposed  in  our  favor,  never  manifested  itself  more  conspicuously  than  in  the  timely 
discovery  of  Arnold's  horrid  intention  to  surrender  the  post  and  garrison  of  West  Point  to  the  enemy." — WASHING  ION. 


'ARK  and  tragical,  indeed,  is  that  page  in  the  history  of 
the  American  revolutionary  war,  which  records  Benedict 
Arnold's  atrocious  scheme  of  treason  against  his  native 
land,  in  its  struggle  against  British  oppression.  Equally 
strange  and  startling  is  the  story  which  narrates  the  dis 
covery  and  frustration  of  so  perfidious  a  plot.  Around 
the  memory  of  the  unfortunate  Andre,  pity  still  wreathes 
her  romantic  chaplet ;  while  the  name  of  Arnold  will, 
to  the  end  of  time,  transfix  every  patriotic  mind,  as  that 
PRICE  OF  ARNOLD'S  TREASON.  of  tne  blackest  among  modern  criminals.  The  treacher 
ous  deed  was  committed,  too,  in  a  year  of  deep  depression  on  the  part  of  the  Americans. 
Of  Arnold,  personally  and  professionally,  it  may  be  remarked,  that  he  was  born  in 
Norwich,  Connecticut,  in  1740,  and  began  his  business  career  at  an  early  age,  as  a  horse- 
dealer,  and  not  over-scrupulous.  He  was  also  for  a  time  a  druggist  and  bookseller  in 
New  Haven.  At  the  beginning  of  the  war  of  the  Revolution  he  placed  himself  at  the 
head  of  a  volunteer  company,  and  soon  distinguished  himself ;  was  associated  also  with 
General  Montgomery  in  the  expedition  against  Quebec.  In  this  latter  most  disastrous 
affair,  undertaken  in  severe  weather,  his  illustrious  colleague  lost  his  life,  and  Arnold, 
who  was  severely  wounded  in  the  leg,  displayed  the  highest  abilities  as  a  commander 
and  the  greatest  gallantry  as  a  soldier,  eliciting  Washington's  warmest  esteem  and  ad 
miration.  But,  licentious  and  rapacious  as  he  was  brave  and  intelligent,  he  plundered 
Montreal  in  his  retreat,  and  by  his  misconduct  exasperated  the  minds  of  the  Canadians, 
who  previously  were  not  hostile  to  the  Revolution.  After  exhibiting  great  courage 
and  skill  on  Lake  Champlain,  at  Fort  Schuyler,  and  the  battle  of  Stillwater,  his  leg 
was  shattered  by  a  ball  on  the  seventh  of  October,  1777,  in  a  daring  assault  on 


98 


OUB  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


the  English  lines,  which  he  penetrated,  and 
but  for  his  wound  would  have  carried. 
Being  thus  unfitted  for  active  service,  he 
was  appointed  commander  of  the  garrison 
at  Philadelphia,  hut  his  dissipation,  extor 
tion,  and  peculation,  at  last  subjected  him 
to  a  trial  by  court  martial,  and  to  a  repri 
mand  from  Washington,  at  the  beginning 
of  1779.  This  sentence  was  approved  by 
Congress,  and  carried  into  execution  by 
General  Washington.  Embarrassed  in  his 
circumstances,  disappointed  in  his  expec 
tations,  and  exasperated  by  disgrace,  lie 
formed  the  design  of  retrieving  his  misfor 
tunes  and  satisfying  his  revenge,  by  be 
traying  his  country.  It  was  in  this  wise : 

While  the  British  army  was  in  Phila 
delphia,  in  the  spring  of  1778,  a  grand 
parting  entertainment  was  given  by  the 
royalists  to  Sir  William  Howe,  the  British 
Commander-in-chief.  Major  Andre,  made 
Adjutant-General  of  the  army  by  Howe's 
successor,  was  one  of  the  chief  managers 
of  the  affair.  Miss  Shippen,  a  Philadel 
phia  belle  (and  who  subsequently  became 
Mrs.  Arnold),  figured  conspicuously  among 
the  actors  of  the  entertainment,  and  she 
and  Andre  kept  up  a  correspondence  after 
ward.  Through  this  channel  Arnold  saw, 
after  his  marriage  with  Miss  Shippen,  an 
opportunity  for  communicating  with  Sir 
Henry  Clinton,  the  British  commander  at 
New  York.  In  other"  words,  he  deter 
mined  to  betray  his  country, — being,  in 
this  respect,  an  almost  solitary  instance, 
Dr.  Benjamin  Church,  of  Massachusetts, 
surgeon-general,  being  the  other  principal 
offender. 

Under  fictitious  names,  and  in  the  dis 
guise  of  mercantile  business,  Arnold  was 
even  now  in  treacherous  correspondence 
with  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  through  Major 
Andre.  To  him  the  British  general  com 
mitted  the  maturing  of  Arnold's  treason, 
and,  to  facilitate  measures  for  its  execu 
tion,  the  sloop  of  war  Vulture  moved  up 
the  North  river,  and  took  a  station  con 
venient  for  the  purpose,  but  not  so  near  as 
to  excite  suspicion.  An  interview  was 
agreed  on,  and  in  the  night  of  September 
twenty-first,  1780,  he  was  taken  in  a  boat, 


which  .was  dispatched  for  the  purpose,  and 
carried  to  the  beach,  without  the  posts  of 
both  armies,  under  a  pass  for  John  Ander 
son.  He  met  General  Arnold  at  the  house 
of  a  Mr.  Smith. 

Yielding  with  reluctance  to  the  urgent 
representations  of  Arnold,  Andre  laid  aside 
his  regimentals,  which  he  had  hitherto 
worn  under  a  surtout,  putting  on  a  suit  of 
ordinary  clothes  instead;  and  now,  receiv 
ing  a  pass  from  the  American  general, 
authorizing  him,  tinder  the  feigned  name 
of  John  Anderson,  to  "proceed  on  the 
public  service  to  the  White  Plains,  or 
lower  if  he  thought  proper,"  he  set  out  on 
his  return  in  the  evening  of  the  twenty- 
second,  accompanied  by  Joshua  Smith,  and 
passed  the  night  at  Crompoml.  The  next 
morning  ho  crossed  the  Hudson  to  King's 
Ferry  on  the  east  side.  A  little  beyond 
the  Croton,  Smith  deeming  him  safe,  bade 
him  adieu.  Alone,  and  without  having 
excited  the  least  suspicion,  Andre  passed 
the  American  guards,  and  was  silently 
congratulating  himself  that  he  had  passed 
all  danger,  when,  coming  to  a  place  where 
a  small  stream  crossed  the  road  and  ran 
into  a  woody  dell,  a  man  stepped  out  from 
the  trees,  leveled  a  musket,  and  brought 
him  to  a  stand,  while  two  other  men,  sim 
ilarly  armed,  showed  themselves  prepared 
to  second  their  comrades.  The  man  who 
at  first  stepped  out  wore  a  refugee  uniform. 
At  sight  of  it,  Andre's  heart  leapt,  and  he 
felt  himself  secure.  Losing  all  caution, 
he  exclaimed  eagerly : 

"Gentlemen,  where  do  you  belong?  I 
hope  to  our  party  ! " 

"  What  party?"  was  their  immediate 
inquiry  in  response;  the  trio  consisting  of 
scouting  militiamen,  named  Paulding, 
Williams,  and  Van  Wart. 

"The  party  below,"  —  meaning  New 
York,  was  the  answer. 

"We  do,"  was  the  shrewd  reply  of  the 
three,  as  they  now  seized  the  bridle  of  the 
unfortunate  man's  horse,  and  challenged 
his  business  in  that  place. 

Seeing,  beyond  all  doubt,  the  hands  he 
had  fallen  into,  Andre  quickly  shifted  his 
tactics  by  jocosely  remarking  that  what  he 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


99 


had  first  represented  himself  to  be  was 
merely  by  way  of  badinage,  and  that  he 
was  in  reality  a  Continental  officer,  going 
down  to  Dobbs  Ferry  to  get  information 
from  below ;  so  saying,  he  drew  forth  and 
showed  them  the  pass  from  General  Arnold. 
This  in  the  first  place  would  have  sufficed, 
but  his  strange  conduct  and  imprudent 
speech  had  so  thoroughly  betrayed  him, 
that  the  three  militiamen  insisted  on 
searching  his  person.  They  therefore 
obliged  him  to  take  off  his  coat  and  vest, 
and  found  on  him  eighty  dollars  in  Conti 
nental  money,  but  nothing  to  warrant  sus 
picion  of  anything  sinister,  and  were  about 
to  let  him  proceed,  when  one  of  them  — 


marks  on  the  works ;  also  other  important 
documents. 

While  dressing  again,  Andre  endeavored 
to  ransom  himself  from  his  captors.  He 
would  give  any  sum  of  money,  if  they 
would  let  him  go;  would  give  his  horse, 
saddle,  bridle,  gold  watch,  and  one  hundred 
guineas,  and  would  send  them  to  anyplace 
that  might  be  fixed  upon. 

Williams  asked,  ironically,  whether  he 
would  not  give  more  than  all  that. 

Andre  replied,  that  he  would  give  any 
reward  they  might  name  either  in  goods 
or  money,  and  would  remain  with  two  of 
their  party  while  one  went  to  New  York 
to  get  it. 


CAPTURE  OF  ANDRE. 


Paulding,  a  stout-hearted  youngster — ex- 
chiimed : 

"  Boys,  I  am  not  satisfied — his  boots 
must  come  off." 

At  this  Andre  changed  color.  His 
boots,  he  said,  came  off  with  difficulty,  and 
he  begged  he  might  not  be  subjected  to 
the  inconvenience  and  delay.  His  remon 
strances  were  in  vain.  He  was  compelled 
to  sit  down;  his  boots  were  drawn  off  and 
the  concealed  papers  discovered.  Hastily 
scanning  them,  Paulding  exclaimed — 

"My  God!     He  is  a  spy!" 

The  papers,  which  were  in  the  hand 
writing  of  Arnold,  contained  exact  returns 
of  the  state  of  the  forces,  ordnance,  and 
defenses  of  West  Point,  with  critical  re- 


Here  Paulding  broke  in  and  declared 
with  an  oath,  that  if  he  would  give  ten 
thousand  guineas  he  should  not  stir  one 
step. 

On  the  morning  of  the  twentj'-eighth  of 
September,  Andre,  in  charge  of  Miijor 
Tallmarlge,  was  conveyed  in  a  barge  to 
King's  Ft-rry.  Being  both  young,  of  equal 
rank,  and  prepossessing  manners,  a  frank 
and  cordial  intercourse  grew  up  between 
them.  By  a  cartel,  mutually  agreed  upon, 
each  might  put  to  the  other  any  question 
not  involving  a  third  person.  They  were 
passing  below  the  rocky  heights  of  West 
Point  and  in  full  view  of  the  frowning 
fortress,  when  Tallmadge  asked  Andre 
whether  he  would  have  taken  an  active 


100 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


part  in  the  attack  on  it,  should  Arnold's 
plan  have  succeeded. 

Andre  promptly  answered  this  question 
in  the  affirmative;  pointed  out  a  table  of 
land  on  the  west  shore,  where  he  would 
have  landed  a  select  corps,  described  the 
route  he  would  have  taken  up  the  moun 
tain  to  a  height  in  the  rear  of  Fort  Put 
nam,  overlooking  the  whole  parade  of 
West  Point — "and  this  he  did,"  writes 
Tallmadge,  "  with  much  greater  exactness 
than  I  could  have  done.  This  eminence 
he  would  have  reached  without  difficulty, 
as  Arnold  would  have  disposed  of  the  gar 
rison  in  such  manner  as  to  be  capable  of 
little  or  no  opposition — and  then  the  key 


public  ear,  and  all  hearts  turned  for  relief 
to  the  wisdom  of  Washington  Unfortu 
nately  for  the  ends  of  justice,  Andre  a.^kod 
permission  of  Colonel  Jameson,  as  soon  as 
he  was  taken  to  the  latter's  custodj-,  to 
write  to  General  Arnold,  to  inform  him 
that  '  Anderson '  was  detained.  Not 
knowing  the  rank  of  his  prisoner  nor  the 
magnitude  of  the  plot,  the  letter  was  al 
lowed  by  Jameson  to  be  sent,  and  Arnold, 
being  thus  apprised,  escnped.  Colonel 
Jameson  also  forwarded  to  General  Wash 
ington  the  papers  found  on  the  prisoner, 
and  a  statement  of  the  manner  in  which 
he  was  taken. 

The  papers  sent  to  Washington  missed 


of  the  country  would  have  been  in  his 
hands,  and  lie  would  have  had  the  glory 
of  the  splendid  achievement."  Tallmadge 
ventured  to  ask  Andre  what  was  to  have 
been  his  reward  had  he  succeeded.  To 
this  the  reply  was  :  "  Military  glory  was 
all  I  sought.  The  thanks  of  my  general 
and  the  approbation  of  my  king  would 
have  been  a  rich  reward  for  such  an  under 
taking."  Tallmadge  also  adds  :  "I  think 
he  further  remarked,  that,  if  he  had  suc 
ceeded,  he  was  to  have  been  promoted  to 
the  rank  of  a  brigadier-general." 

The  news  of  Andre's  arrest  and  Arnold's 
treason   fell  like  a  thunderbolt  upon  the 


him,  as  he  did  not  return  by  the  road  he 
went,  but  took  the  northern  route  to  Fish- 
kill,  where,  September  twenty-fourth,  he 
arrived  late  in  the  afternoon,  the  very  day 
after  Andre's  capture, — of  which  event 
and  of  Arnold's  treason  lie  was  wholly 
unconscious.  Stopping  at  Fishkill  only  a 
short  time,  he  pushed  on  for  the  quarters 
of  his  brave  general,  Arnold,  some  eighteen 
miles  distant.  He  had  gone,  however,  but 
a  mile  or  two,  before  he  met  the  French 
minister,  Chevalier  Luzerne,  on  his  way  to 
Newport,  to  visit  Rochambeau,  the  French 
naval  commander.  The  latter  prevailed 
on  him  to  return  to  Fishkill  for  the  night, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


101 


as  he  had  matters  of  importance  to  com 
municate. 

The  next  morning,  Washington  was 
early  in  the  saddle,  having  sent  word  be 
forehand  to  Arnold  that  he  would  break 
fast  with  him.  It  was  a  bright  autumnal 
morning,  and  the  whole  party  in  high 
spirits  pushed  rapidly  forward  through  the 
gorges  of  the  Highlands.  As  they  came 
opposite  West  Point,  Washington,  instead 
of  continuing  on  to  Arnold's  quarters, 
which  were  on  the  same  side,  turned  his 
horse  down  a  narrow  road  toward  the 
river.  Lafayette  observing  this,  ex 
claimed — 

"  General,  you  are  going  in  the  wrong 
direction ;  you  know  Mrs.  Arnold  is  wait 
ing  breakfast  for  us,  and  that  road  will 
take  us  out  of  the  way." 


Jameson,  commanding  at  North  Castle, 
announcing  the  capture  of  Andre,  and  who 
had  been  brought  in  to  Jameson's  post,  by 
three  militiamen,  Paulding,  Williams,  and 
Van  Wart,  his  captors,  whom  the  gallant 
but  unfortunate  man  vainly  endeavored  to 
bribe,  in  order  to  his  release.  They  knew 
him  to  be  a  spy,  but  were  ignorant  of  his 
military  rank. 

Merely  remarking  that  his  presence  at 
West  Point  was  necessary,  Arnold  re 
quested  the  aids  to  say  to  Washington  on 
his  arrival  that  he  was  unexpectedly  called 
over  the  river,  and  would  be  back  soon. 
Repauing  to  his  wife's  chamber,  he  sent 
for  her  at  the  breakfast  table,  and  told  her 
that  he  must  instantly  leave  her  and  his 
country  forever,  for  death  was  his  certain 
doom  if  he  did  not  reach  the  enemv  before 


WEST   POINT   IX   1780. 


"  Ah  !  "  replied  Washington,  laughingly, 
"  I  know  you  young  men  are  all  in  love 
with  Mrs.  Arnold,  and  wish  to  get  where 
she  is  as  soon  as  possible.  You  may  go 
and  take  breakfast  with  her,  and  tell  her 
not  to  wait  for  me.  I  must  ride  down  and 
examine  the  redoubts  on  this  side  of  the 
river,  and  will  be  there  in  a  short  time." 

The  officers  preferring  not  to  proceed 
without  him,  two  aids  were  dispatched  to 
tell  Arnold  not  to  wait  breakfast.  The 
latter,  therefore,  with  his  family  and  the 
two  aids  sat  down  to  the  table.  While 
they  were  conversing  on  indifferent  topics, 
a  messenger  entered  and  handed  a  letter 
to  Arnold,  who  opened  and  read  it  in  pres 
ence  of  the  company,  without,  of  course,  di 
vulging  its  contents.  It  was  from  Colonel 


he  was  detected.  Paralyzed  by  the  sud 
den  blow,  she  fell  senseless  at  his  feet. 
Not  daring  to  call  for  help,  Arnold  left  her 
in  that  state,  and  rapidly  descending  to  the 
door,  mounted  one  of  the  horses  belonging 
to  Washington's  aid?,  and  taking  a 
by-way  pushed  for  the  river,  where  his 
barge  was  moored.  Jumping  in,  he  or 
dered  his  six  oarsmen  to  pull  for  Teller's 
Point.  Stimulating  them  to  greater 
efforts  by  the  promise  of  two  gallons  of 
rum,  he  swept  rapidly  past  Verplanck's 
Point,  and  as  he  approached  the  British 
ship  Vulture,  waved  a  white  handkerchief, 
and  was  soon  on  board.  In  the  meantime, 
Washington,  having  finished  his  survey, 
rode  on  to  Arnold's  house.  Taking  a 
hast}T  breakfast,  and  being  informed  that 


102 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Mrs.  Arnold  was  in  her  room,  unwell,  he 
said  he  would  not  wait  for  Arnold  to 
return,  but  cross  over  to  West  Point  and 
meet  him  there.  As  the  boat  swept  over 
the  water,  he  remarked — 

"Well,  gentlemen,  I  am  glad  on  the 
whole  that  General  Arnold  has  gone  before 
us,  for  we  shall  now  have  a  salute,  and  the 
roaring  of  the  cannon  will  have  a  fine 
effect  among  these  mountains." 

At  this  moment  an  officer  was  seen 
coining  down  the  rocky  hill-side,  to 
meet  the  barge.  It  was  Colonel 
Lamb,  who  looked  confounded  on 
seeing  the  commander-in-chief.  He 
commenced  an  apology,  declaring 
that  ho  was  wholly  ignorant  of  his 
excellency's  intention  to  visit  West 
Point. 

"  How  is  this,  sir,"  broke  in  Wash 
ington,  "is  not  General  Arnold  here?" 

"No,  sir,"  replied  the  colonel,  "he  lias 
not  been  here  these  two  days,  nor  have  I 
heard  from  him  in  that  time." 

"This  is  extraordinary,"  replied  Wash 
ington  ;  "  he  left  word  that  he  had  crossed 
the  river.  However,  our  visit  must  not 
be  in  vain.  Since  we  have  come,  we  must 
look  around  and  see  in  what  state  things 
are  with  you." 

And  now  it  was  that  Hamilton  broke 
the  astounding  news  to  his  chief.  The 
Litter,  stunned  and  bewildered,  ordered 
Hamilton  to  mount  a  horse  and  ride  us  for 
life  to  Verplanck's  Point,  and  stop  Arnold, 
if  possible;  he  called  in  Knox  and  Lafay 
ette,  and  told  them  what  had  occurred, 
merely  remarking  at  the  close,  "  Whom 
can  we  trust  now?"  His  countenance 
was  calm  as  ever,  and  being  informed  that 
Arnold's  wife  was  in  a  state  bordering  on 
insanity,  he  went  up  to  her  room  to  soothe 
her.  In  her  frenzy  she  upbraided  him 
with  being  in  a  plot  to  murder  her  child. 
One  moment  she  raved,  another  she  melted 
into  tears.  Sometimes  she  pressed  her 
infant  to  her  bosom  and  lamented  its  fate, 
occasioned  by  the  imprudence  of  its  father, 
in  a  manner  that  would  have  pierced  in 
sensibility  itself.  It  was  four  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon  when  these  disclosures  of 


Arnold's  treason  and  Andre's  capture  were 
made  to  Washington,  and,  an  hour  later, 
dinner  being  announced,  he  said — 

"Come,  gentlemen,  since  Mrs.  Arnold 
is  unwell  and  the  general  is  absent,  let  us 
sit  down  without  ceremony." 

No  one  at  the  table  but  Knox  and  La 
fayette  knew  what  had  transpired,  nor 
did  Washington  exhibit  any  change  of 
demeanor,  except  that  he  was  more  than 


GENERAL  ARNOLD'S  HEAD-QUARTERS. 

usually  stern  in  his  voice  and  manner. 
But  his  mind,  oppressed  with  nameless 
fears,  wandered  far  away  from  that  dinner 
table,  and  no  sooner  was  the  quiet  repast 
over  than  he  addressed  himself  to  the  task 
before  him.  He  wrote  rapidly,  and  cour 
iers  were  soon  seen  galloping  in  every  di 
rection.  He  announced  the  treason  to 
Colonel  Wade,  commanding  at  West  Point, 
in  the  absence  of  Colonel  Lamb,  in  tlie 
single  sentence,  "  General  Arnold  is  gone 
to  the  enemy"  Having  done  all  he  could 
to  arrest  the  tremendous  evils  that  threat 
ened  to  overwhelm  him,  Washington  re 
tired  late  at  night  to  liis  bed,  fearful  that 
the  sound  of  the  enemy's  cannon,  under 
the  auspices  of  Arnold's  treacherous 
schemes,  would  awake  him  before  day 
light.  It  happily  did  not  prove  so. 

A  court-martial,  having  condemned 
Andre  as  a  ppy,  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  the 
British  general,  put  forth  every  effoit  to 
avert  the  dreadful  fate  of  his  officer.  He 
sent  three  commissioners  to  reason  and  re 
monstrate  with  the  officers  of  the  court. 
He  appealed  to  Washington,  while  Arnold 
wrote  him  a  threatening  letter,  declaring 
if  Andre  was  hung  he  would  revenge  his 
death  on  every  American  prisoner  that  fell 
into  his  hands.  Washington  deigned  no 
reply  to  the  letter,  but  tenderly  forwarded 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


103 


Mrs.  Arnold  and  her  baggage  over  to  the 
British  side. 

Washington,  though  his  heart  was  filled 
with  the  keenest  sorrow  for  the  fate  of  one 
so  universally  beloved,  and  possessed  of 
such  noble  qualities  of  heart  and  mind, 
refused  to  arrest  the  course  of  justice.  As 
in  all  cases  where  great  trouble  came  upon 
him,  so  in  this,  he  said  but  little,  but 


sternly  and  siler.tly  wrestled  with  it  alone. 
Arnold  was  made  brigadier-general  in  the 
British  service,  and  put  on  an  official  level 
with  honorable  men,  who  scorned,  how 
ever,  to  associate  with  him.  What  golden 
reward  he  was  to  have  received  had  he 
succeeded  in  delivering  West  Point  to  the 
enemy,  is  not  known ;  £30,000,  most  prob 
ably. 


VI. 


CORNWALLIS    SURRENDERS    HIS    SPLENDID    ARMY   TO 
GENERAL  WASHINGTON.— 1781. 


Final  Catastrophe  to  British  Arms  in  America. — Consternation  and  Despair  in  the  Cabinet  of  King 
George — Their  Vaunted  Wager  of  Battle  Returns  to  Them  with  the  Loss  of  their  Fairest  Possession. 
— Washington's  Countrymen  Everywhere  Hail  and  Extol  Him  as  their  Deliverer. — Last  Act  in  the 
Military  Drama. — Cornwallis  Halts  at  Yorktown. — Makes  it  His  Defensive  Post — Decoy  Letter 
Sent  by  Washington. — The  British  Strongly  Fortified.— American  and  French  Forces  United. — Their 
Advance  on  the  Enemy.— Furious  Bombardment — Redoubts  Stormed  by  Lafayette. — Both  Sides 
Confident  of  Triumph.— British  Efforts  to  Retreat. — Cornwallis  Prefers  Death  to  Defeat —Reckless 
Bravery  of  Washington. — Ardor  and  Exultation  of  His  Troops. — Cornwallis  Fails  of  Re-enforcements. 
— He  Asks  a  Cessation  of  Hostilities. — Forced  to  Yield  the  Struggle. — Universal  Rejoicing  of  Amer 
icans.— Mortification  of  the  English. — Eloquence  of  Burke,  Fox,  and  Pitt.— They  Demand  that  the 
War  Cease. — The  Voice  of  Parliament. — Commemorative  Action  by  Congress. 


•  Oh,  God  I  It  u  all  over— It  i«  all  over  1"— LOUD  NOKTII,  FBIME  MINISTEU  or  ENOLAHD,  ox  HEAIUMJ  07  COKNWALLIS'S  SI:KUKM>KK. 


T  the  head  of  a  powerful  army,  with 
which  he  had  just  established  himself 
in  Virginia,  Lord  Cornwallis  vaunt- 
ingly  wrote  to  General  Clinton,  his 
superior,  as  follows  : — 

"  I  have  ventured,  these  last  two 
days,  to  look  General  Washington's 
whole  force  in  the  face,  in  the  posi 
tion  on  the  outside  of  my  works,  and 
have  the  pleasure  to  assure  your  Ex 
cellency  that  there  is  but  one  wish 
throughout  the  army,  which  is,  that 
the  enemy  would  advance." 

Scarcely  did  Cornwallis  have 
time  to  awake  from  his  day-dream 
of  security,  when  a  courier  was 
thundering  at  the  doors  of  the 
Continental  Congress,  with  the 
following  dispatch  from  General 
Washington  :  "  I  have  the  honor  to  inform  congress  that  a  reduction  of  the  British  army, 
under  the  command  of  Lord  Cornwallis,  is  most  happily  effected.  The  unremitted  ardor, 
which  actuated  every  officer  and  soldier  in  the  combined  army  on  this  occasion,  has 
principally  led  to  this  important  event,  at  an  earlier  period  than  my  most  sanguine 
hopes  had  induced  me  to  expect.  The  singular  spirit  of  emulation,  which  animated  the 
whole  army  from  the  first  commencement  of  our  operations,  has  filled  my  mind  with  the 


THE  HOUSE  WHERE   CORVWALLIS   SURRENDERED. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


105 


highest  pleasure  and  satisfaction,  and  had 
given  me  the  happiest  presages  of  success." 

A  glorious  event,  one  eliciting  the 
most  unbounded  demonstrations  of  joy 
throughout  the  United  States,  and  which 
completely  destroyed  British  military 
power  at  the  south,  thus  setting  the  seal  of 
American  success  upon  the  contest  with 
the  mother  country, — was  the  capture,  as 
announced  in  the  above  dispatch,  of  Lord 
Cornwallis  and  his  splendid  army,  at  York- 
town,  Virginia,  in  October,  1781,  by  the 
combined  American  and  French  forces 
under  General  Washington  and  Counts  de 
Rochambeau  and  Grasse. 

In  the  summer  of  1781,  Cornwallis  had 
taken  possession  of  several  places  in  the 
south,  and,  in  the  latter  part  of  July,  de 
sirous  of  establishing  himself  firmly  in 
Virginia,  he  accordingly  selected  York- 
town  as  a  suitable  defensive  post  and  capa 
ble  of  protecting  ships  of  the  line.  Little 
did  he  think,  as  he  began  leisurely  to  for 
tify  the  place,  that  it  was  a  net  which 
would  entangle  him  in  crushed  hopes  and 
ruined  fortunes.  Yorktown  is  situated  at 
the  narrowest  part  of  the  peninsula  formed 
by  the  York  and  James  rivers,  where  the 
distance  across  is  but  eight  miles.  By 
placing  his  troops,  therefore,  around  the 
village,  and  drawing  about  them  a  range 
of  outer  redoubts  and  field  works  calcu 
lated  to  command  this  peninsula,  Cornwal 
lis  had,  as  he  thought,  established  himself 
well. 

Lafayette,  with  an  inferior  number  of 
troops,  was  at  this  time  at  Williamsburg, 
but  was  unable  to  make  successful  engage 
ments  with  the  superior  force  of  the  Brit 
ish.  Seeing,  at  once,  the  importance  of 
putting  some  check  upon  the  progress  of 
Cornwallis  at  the  south,  Washington  de 
termined  to  unite  the  American  and  French 
forces,  then  in  the  neighborhood  of  New 
York,  and  join  Lafayette  at  Williamsburg. 
This  junction  was  effected  on  the  four 
teenth  of  September,  Washington  being  at 
the  head  of  the  American  troops,  and  the 
Count  de  Rochambeau  at  the  head  of  the 
French  forces.  At  the  same  time  the 
Count  de  Grasse,  with  his  fleet,  entered 


the  Chesapeake,  after  a  slight  engagement 
with  Admiral  Graves  off  the  capes,  and 
was  joined  by  the  squadron  of  the  Count 
de  Barras  from  Newport.  Three  thou 
sand  men,  under  the  Marquis  St.  Simon, 
were  also  added  to  the  troops  under  La 
fayette's  command;  and  these  combined 
forces  then  moved  toward  Yorktown  and 
Gloucester,  where  Corwallis  was  sta 
tioned. 

The  British  general  had  been  expecting 
aid  from  Sir  Henry  Clinton  at  the  north, 
but  so  adroitly  had  Washington  withdrawn 
his  troops,  that  Sir  Henry  scarcely  sus 
pected  his  design,  till  it  was  too  late  to 
frustrate  it.  On  the  thirteenth  of  Septem 
ber,  the  allied  army  occupied  the  outer 
lines  of  Cornwallis,  which  that  general 
had  abandoned  without  a  struggle.  York- 
town  was  in  a  short  time  completely 
invested ;  the  American  army  occupying 
the  right,  and  the  French  the  left,  forming 
a  semi-circle  with  each  wing  resting  upon 
the  river.  On  the  night  of  the  sixth  of 
October  the  besieging  army  broke  ground 
within  six  hundred  yards  of  the  British 
lines ;  and  the  first  parallel  was  completed 
with  little  loss.  On  the  ninth  and  tenth, 
guns  were  mounted  on  the  works,  and  the 
batteries  began  to  play,  with  visible  effect, 
on  the  lines  of  the  enemy.  Many  of  their 
guns  were  soon  silenced,  and  their  works 
damaged.  By  the  eleventh,  the  enemy 
scarcely  returned  a  shot.  The  shells  and 
red-hot  balls  of  the  besiegers  readied  the 
shipping  in  the  harbor,  and  set  the  Charon 
frigate  of  forty-four  guns,  and  several 
large  transports  on  fire,  which  were  en 
tirely  consumed.  On  the  night  of  the 
eleventh,  the  second  parallel  was  begun 
within  three  hundred  yards  of  the  British 
lines.  The  working  parties  were  not  dis 
covered  until  day-light,  when  the  trenches 
were  in  a  situation  to  cover  the  men. 

But  there  were  two  redoubts  in  particu 
lar,  in  front  of  the  British  lines  and  which 
flanked  the  second  parallel  of  the  Ameri 
cans,  that  gave  great  annoyance  to  the 
latter,  and  it  was  deemed  necessary  to 
carry  them  by  storm.  To  prevent  national 
jealousy,  however,  and  to  keep  alive  the 


100 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


spirit  of  emulation  which  animated  the  co 
operating  armies,  the  attack  of  one  was 
assigned  to  the  American  troops,  and  that 
of  the  other  to  the  French.  Lafayette 
commanded  the  American  detachment,  and 
the  Baron  de  Viominet  the  French. 
Colonel  Hamilton,  who  through  this  cam 
paign  commanded  a  battalion  of  light  in 
fantry,  led  the  advanced  corps  of  the 
Americans  to  the  assault,  while  Colonel 
Laurens  turned  the  redoubt  and  attacked 


in  his  confidence  of  triumph  had  so  recently 
written  to  his  superior,  Sir  Henry  Clinton. 
Having  failed  in  his  sortie,  and  knowing 
that  his  position  had  become  untenable, 
the  British  general  took  the  desperate  res 
olution  of  crossing  over  to  Gloucester 
Point  in  the  night,  and  cutting  his  way 
through  the  blockading  force  there — then, 
mounting  his  men  on  whatever  horses  he 
could  seize,  make  a  rapid  march  northward 
and  join  Sir  Henry  Clinton !  By  this 


COK.NWALLiS  S    .-I    KKI.MH.K. 


in  the  rear,  to  prevent  the  retreat  of  the 
garrison.  Without  giving  time  for  the 
abattis  to  be  removed,  and  without  firing 
a  gun,  the  Americans  gallantly  assaulted, 
and  instantly  carried  the  works,  with  a 
small  loss  of  men  on  either  side.  The  re 
doubt  attacked  by  the  French  being  more 
strongly  garrisoned  made  greater  resist 
ance,  and  was  overcome  with  a  much  heav 
ier  loss.  The  success  of  these  movements 
was  a  stunning  blow  to  Cornwallis,  who, 


movement  he  would  abandon  his  sick  and 
baggage ;  but  he  would  save  himself  the 
disgrace  of  a  surrender.  Boats  were  se 
cretly  procured,  and  the  first  embarkation 
reached  the  point  safely  and  unperceived  ; 
but,  at  this  juncture,  a  violent  storm  arose, 
which  drove  the  boats  down  the  river. 
The  tempest  continuing  until  day-light, 
the  enterprise  was  necessarily  given  up, 
and  the  troops  that  had  passed  over  gladly 
re-crossed  to  the  southern  field. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


107 


In  the  mortification  and  anguish  of  his 
soul,  Cornwallis  shed  tears,  and  expressed 
his  preference  for  deatli  rather  than  the 
ignominy  of  a  surrender.  But  there  was 
no  resource — the  handwriting  on  the  wall 
was  against  him — the  fate  of  war  must  bs 
accepted.  The  siege  had  continued  close 
for  more  than  two  weeks,  and,  notwith 
standing  the  losses  in  killed,  wounded,  and 
missing,  that  had  been  sustained,  the  Brit 
ish  army  showed  a  handsome  force  of  be 
tween  seven  and  eight  thousand  trained 
fighting  men,  of  unquestioned  bravery,  but 
\vho  were  soon  to  capitulate  to  the  besieg 
ing  forces,  numbering,  in  all,  some  sixteen 
thousand  men,  less  disciplined,  perhaps, 
but  determined  and  indomitable. 

Of  Washington,  the  central  character 
and  actor  in  this  great  drama,  every 
American  heart  engrossingly  thinks. 
Knowing  that  Sir  Henry  Clinton  had 
written  to  Cornwallis,  bidding  him  to 
strengthen  his  position  at  Yorktown,  and 
promising  him  the  immediate  aid  of  both 
land  and  naval  forces,  "Washington  had, 
seasonably  and  with  shrewd  forecast,  writ 
ten  a  letter  to  Lafayette,  then  in  Virginia, 
which  he  caused  to  be  intercepted.  In  this 
letter  he  remarked  that  he  was  pleased 
with  the  probability  that  Earl  Cornwallis 
would  fortify  either  Portsmouth  or  Old 
Point  Comfort,  for,  were  he  to  fix  upon 
Yorktown,  from  its  great  capabilities  of 
defense,  he  might  remain  there  snugly  and 
unharmed,  until  a  superior  British  fleet 
would  relieve  him  with  strong  re-enforce 
ments,  or  embark  him  altogether. 

This  decoy  letter  quieted  the  apprehen 
sions  of  the  British  commander-in-chief  as 
to  the  danger  of  Cornwallis,  and  produced 
those  delays  in  the  operations  of  Sir  Henry, 
which,  as  will  have  been  seen,  tended  so 
materially  to  the  success  of  i,he  allies  and 
the  surrender  of  Yorktown.  Thus  it  was 
that  Washington  by  his  pen,  laid  the 
train  of  success  so  well.  Nor  less  so  with 
his  sword.  In  the  simultaneous  attack 
upon  the  redoubts,  made  by  the  combined 
American  and  French  army,  Washington 
was  an  intensely-excited  spectator.  He 
had  dismounted  from  his  horse — the  mag 


nificent  charger,  named  Nelson, — and  put 
him  in  the  care  of  a  servant,  while  the 
general  himself  took  his  stand  in  the  grand 
battery  with  his  two  chief  generals,  Lin 
coln  and  Knox,  and  their  aids,  and  here 
he  exposed  himself  to  every  danger. 

When  all  was  over,  at  this  critical  junc 
ture, —  the  redoubts  being  taken,  and 
Washington's  intense  anxiety  so  happily 
relieved, — the  general  drew  a  long  breath, 
and  looking  at  Knox  with  an  expression 
of  extreme  satisfaction,  remarked,  briefly, 
"  The  work  is  done,  and  well  done ! " 
Motioning  to  his  faithful  servant,  who  was 
quickly  in  his  presence,  he  said,  "William, 
bring  me  my  horse," — mounting  Avhich,  the 
chieftain  proceeded  to  make  sure  that  the 
success  which  had  attended  the  first  par 
allel  was  followed  up  energetically  until 
no  loop-hole  was  left,  through  which  Corn 
wallis  might  escape.  No  such  loop-hole 
was  afforded,  and  Cornwallis's  doom  was 
sealed. 

It  was  a  proud  day  for  the  war-worn 
troops  of  America  to  see  so  fine  an  army 
not  only  within  their  grasp,  but,  to  all  in 
tents  and  purposes,  completely  at  their 
disposal, — waiting  only  those  last  formali 
ties  which  give  solemn  dignity  to  the  de 
crees  already  made  by  the  sword, — and 
they  saw,  in  the  coming  event,  the  final 
catastrophe  of  British  rule  in  America, — 
the  close  of  the  Revolutionary  drama, — 
the  establishment  of  a  free  and  independ 
ent  republic.  As  already  remarked,  Corn 
wallis  had  hoped  for  succor  to  the  last,  but 
the  slaughter  of  his  men  became  too  seri 
ous  to  be  any  longer  endured,  and  finally 
the  loud  beat  of  the  chamade  was  heard  in 
the  intervals  of  the  explosions  of  cannon, 
and  the  firing  ceased.  Cornwallis  then 
sent  a  flag  of  truce  requesting  a  cessation 
of  hostilities  for  twenty-four  hours,  to  ar 
range  the  terms  of  capitulation.  To  this 
Washington  would  not  consent,  fearing 
that  the  arrival  of  the  English  fleet  in  the 
meantime  might  alter  the  aspect  of  affairs, 
and  allowed  him  but  two  hours  in  which 
to  transmit  his  proposals.  The  full  sur 
render  took  place  the  next  day,  October  19, 
1781,  the  articles  of  capitulation  being 


108 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1T76-1S7G. 


signed  by  Cornwallis  at  the  house  of  a  Mr. 
Moore. 

At  about  12  o'clock  of  that  day,  the 
combined  continental  army  was  drawn  up 
in  two  lines  more  than  a  mile  in  length, 
the  Americans  on  the  right  side  of  the 
road,  and  their  French  allies  on  the  left. 
Washington,  mounted  on  a  noble  steed, 
and  attended  by  his  staff,  was  in  front  of 
the  former;  the  Count  de  Rochambeau 
and  his  suite,  of  the  latter.  The  French 
troops,  in  complete  uniform,  and  well 
equipped,  made  a  brilliant  appearance,  and 
had  marched  to  the  ground  with  a  band  of 
music  playing,  which  was  a  novelty  in  the 
American  service.  The  American  troops, 
but  part  in  uniform,  and  all  in  garments 
much  the  worse  for  wear,  yet  had  a  spirited 
soldier-like  air,  and  were  not  the  worse  in 
the  eyes  of  their  countrymen  for  bearing 
the  marks  of  hard  service  and  great  priva 
tions.  The  concourse  of  spectators  drawn 
from  all  the  neighboring  country  to  witness 
a  scene  so  thrilling  and  momentous,  was 
almost  equal  in  number  to  the  military, 
but  silence  and  order  prevailed  unbroken. 

The  enthusiasm  throughout  the  country, 
on  the  surrender  of  Cornwallis,  was  un 
bounded.  "Cornwallis  is  taken!"  was 
the  message  which  sped  itself  with  the 
wings  of  the  wind  to  every  city,  town  and 
village,  and  was  shouted  by  every  mouth. 
But  the  mortification  of  Cornwallis  was 
intense,  and  the  British  cabinet,  on  hear 
ing  the  news,  turned  pale  with  despair. 
Lords  Germain,  Walsingham,  and  Stor- 
mount,  proceeded  to  Lord  North's  house, 
and  there,  at  midnight,  announced  to  him 
the  portentous  dispatch.  The  haughty 
premier  was  astounded  and  humbled.  In 
the  words  of  Lord  Germain,  in  answer  to 
the  inquiry  how  Lord  North  received  the 
news? — "As  he  would  have  received  a  ball 
in  his  breast ;  for  he  opened  his  arms,  ex 
claiming  wildly  as  he  paced  up  and  down 
the  apartment,  '  Oh  God  !  It  is  all  over — 
it  is  all  over!'"  King  George  III.  was  at 
Kew,  and  the  intelligence  was  forwarded 
to  him  at  that  place.  He  exhibited  no  loss 
of  self-control,  it  is  said,  notwithstanding 
the  hopes  which  had  been  centered  in  Corn 


wallis  and  his  army,  to  give  triumph  to 
the  British  arms. 

It  is  well  known  that,  during  the  month 
of  November,  the  accounts  received  by  the 
British  government,  of  Lord  Cornwallis's 
embarrassments,  gave  great  anxiety  to  the 
cabinet.  Lord  George  Germain,  in  partic 
ular,  conscious  that  on  the  prosperous  or 
adverse  result  of  Cornwallis's  movements 
hinged  the  result  of  the  whole  American 
contest,  as  well  as  his  own  political  fate — 
and  probably  the  duration  of  the  ministry 
itself, — expressed  to  his  friends  the  strong 
est  uneasiness  on  the  subject.  The  meet 
ing  of  parliament  stood  fixed  for  the  27th 
of  that  month.  On  the  25th,  the  official 
intelligence  of  the  unconditional  surrender 
of  the  British  forces  of  Yorktown,  arrived 
at  Lord  Germain's  house.  Lord  Walsing 
ham,  who,  previous  to  his  father,  Sir  Wil 
liam  de  Grey's  elevation  to  the  peerage, 
had  been  under-secretary  of  state  in  that 
department,  and  who  was  to  second  the 
address  in  the  house  of  lords,  happened  to 
be  there  when  the  messenger  brought  the 
news.  Without  communicating  it  to  any 
unofficial  person,  Lord  George,  for  the 
purpose  of  dispatch,  immediately  got  with 
him  into  a  hackney-coach,  and  drove  to 
Lord  Stormount's  residence  in  Portland 
Place.  Having  imparted  the  disastrous 
information  to  him,  they  determined,  after 
a  short  consultation,  to  lay  the  intelligence 
themselves  in  person  before  Lord  North, 
with  what  result  has  already  been  stated 
on  the  authority  of  a  writer  in  Black\vood's 
Magazine. 

The  next  picture  is  that  of  a  cabinet 
council  in  terror.  When  the  first  agitation 
had  subsided,  the  four  ministers  discussed 
the  question,  whether  it  might  not  be  ex 
pedient  to  prorogue  the  meeting  of  parlia 
ment  for  a  few  da}rs ;  but  as  scarcely  an 
interval  of  forty-eight  hours  remained  be 
fore  the  appointed  time  of  meeting,  and  as 
many  members  of  both  houses  had  arrived 
in  London,  or  were  on  their  way,  the  prop 
osition  was  abandoned.  It  became,  how 
ever,  indispensable  to  alter,  and  almost 
remodel,  the  king's  speech.  This  was 
done  without  delay,  and  at  the  same  time 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


109 


Lord  George,  as  secretary  for  the  American 
department,  sent  off  a  dispatch  to  the 
king,  then  at  Kew,  acquainting  him  with 
Cornwallis's  fate. 

One  who  was  intimate  in  the  circle  of 
court  actors  and  secrets  at  that  time  says  : 
— I  dined  that  day  at  Lord  George's,  and 
although  the  information  which  had 
reached  London  in  the  course  of  the  morn 
ing  from  France,  as  well  as  from  the  offi 
cial  report,  was  of  a  nature  not  to  admit  of 
long  concealment,  }"et  it  had  not  been 
communicated  to  me  or  any  other  individ 
ual  of  the  company  when  I  got  to  Pall 
Mall,  between  five  and  six  o'clock.  Lord 
Walsingham,  who  also  dined  there,  was 
then  the  only  person,  except  Lord  George, 
officially  knowing  to  the  fact.  The  party, 
nine  in  number,  sat  down  to  the  table.  I 
thought  the  master  of  the  house  appeared 
serious,  though  he  manifested  no  discom 
posure.  Before  dinner  was  over,  a  letter 
was  brought  from  the  king,  by  the  messen 
ger  who  had  been  dispatched  to  him  with 
the  startling  intelligence.  Lord  Walsing 
ham  simply  indulged  in  the  observation  : 
"The  king  writes  just  as  he  always  does, 
except  that  I  perceive  he  has  neglected  to 
mark  the  hour  and  minute  of  his  writing 
with  his  usual  precision."  This  remark, 
though  calculated  to  awaken  some  interest, 
excited  no  comment ;  and  while  the  ladies, 
Lord  George's  three  daughters,  remained 
in  the  room,  all  manifestation  of  curiosity 
was  repressed.  But  they  had  no  sooner 
withdrawn,  than  Lord  George  having  com 
municated  the  fact  that  information  had 
just  arrived  from  Paris  of  the  old  Count 
Maurepas,  first  minister  of  the  French 
cabinet,  lying  at  the  point  of  death,  the 
remark  was  made  by  one  of  the  party — 

"  It  would  grieve  me  to  finish  my  career, 
however  far  advanced  in  years,  were  I  first 
minister  of  France,  before  I  had  witnessed 
the  termination  of  this  great  contest  be 
tween  England  and  America." 

"  He  has  survived  to  see  that  event,"  at 
once  replied  Lord  George  Germain,  with 
some  agitation. 

The  conversation  was  continued,  until, 
on  the  more  particular  mention  of  the  Vir 


ginia  campaign,  the  minister  disclosed 
the  full  bearing  of  the  intelligence  he  had 
received,  saying — • 

"  The  army  has  surrendered,  and  you 
may  peruse  the  particulars  of  the  capitula 
tion  in  that  paper." 

The  paper  was  taken  from  his  pocket, 
and  read  to  the  company.  The  next  ques 
tion  was  one  of  rather  an  obtrusive  kind, 
to  learn  what  the  king  thought  on  the 
subject.  In  reply  to  this,  the  minister's 
remark  did  the  highest  credit  to  his  maj 
esty's  firmness,  fortitude  and  consistency. 
The  minister  even  allowed  the  king's  bil 
let  to  be  read,  and  it  was  as  follows : — 

'I  have  received,  with  sentiments  of  the 
deepest  concern,  the  communication  which 
Lord  George  Germain  has  made  to  me,  of 
the  unfortunate  result  of  the  operations  to 
Virginia.  I  particularly  lament  it,  on 
account  of  the  consequences  connected  with 
it  and  the  difficulties  which  it  may  produce 
in  carrying  on  the  public  business,  or  in 
repairing  such  a  misfortune.  But  I  trust 
that  neither  Lord  Germain,  nor  any  other 
member  of  the  cabinet,  will  suppose  that  it 
makes  the  smallest  alteration  in  those 
principles  of  my  conduct,  which  have  di 
rected  me  in  the  past  time,  which  will  al 
ways  continue  to  animate  me  under  every 
event,  in  the  prosecution  of  the  present 
contest.' 

The  cabinet,  strengthened  by  the  royal 
determination,  now  recovered  courage ; 
they  met  parliament  at  the  appointed  time, 
and  fought  their  battle  there  with  unusual 
vigor.  Perhaps  in  all  the  annals  of  sena 
torial  struggle,  there  never  was  a  crisis 
which  more  powerfully  displayed  the 
talents  of  the  Commons.  Burke,  Fox,  and 
Pitt,  were  at  once  seen  pouring  down  the 
whole  fiery  torrent  of  declamation  on  the 
government. 

But  at  all  events,  the  success  of  the 
siege  of  Yorktown,  it  is  generally  under 
stood,  decided  the  revolutionary  war. 
"  The  infant  Hercules,"  said  Dr.  Franklin, 
"  has  now  strangled  the  two  serpents,  that 
attacked  him  in  his  cradle."  All  the  world 
agree  that  no  expedition  was  ever  better 
planned  or  better  executed.  For  the 


110 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


"  great  glory  and  advantage  "  of  Cornwal- 
lis's  subjection,  Washington  afterwards 
acknowledged  himself  chiefly  indebted  to 
the  French  alliance.  And  in  the  proceed 
ings  of  congress  upon  the  matter,  it  was 
amongst  other  things:  'Resolved,  that 
congress  cause  to  be  erected  at  Yorktown 
a  marble  column,  adorned  with  emblems  of 
the  alliance  between  the  United  States 
and  France,  and  inscribed  with  a  succinct 
narrative  of  the  siege,  and  capitulation.' 
Special  thanks  were  also  tendered  by  that 
body's  vote,  to  each  commander  engaged 
in  the  siege;  and  to  Washington  were 
presented  two  stands  of  colors  taken  from 
the  enemy,  and  two  pieces  of  field  ordnance 
to  Counts  Rochambeau  and  de  Grasse. 

The  next  day  after  the  surrender  was 
the  Sabbath,  and  Washington  ordered 
special  divine  service  in  each  of  the  brig 
ades  of  the  American  army.  He  also  by 
public  proclamation  congratulated  the 
allied  armies  on  the  auspicious  victory, 
awarding  high  praise  to  the  officers  and 
troops,  both  French  and  American,  for 
their  conduct  during  the  siege,  and  speci 
fying  by  name  several  of  the  generals  and 
other  officers  who  had  especially  distin 
guished  themselves.  All  those  of  his  army 
who  were  under  arrest  were  pardoned  and 
set  free. 

News  of  this  glorious  victory  sped  like 
lightning  over  the  land.  Washington  dis 
patched  at  once  one  of  his  aids,  Colonel 
Tilghman,  to  congress,  then  sitting  in 
Philadelphia,  The  swift  rider  dashed  on 
a  gallop  into  the  city  at  midnight — the 
clatter  of  his  horse's  hoofs  the  only  sound 
that  broke  the  silence  of  the  deserted 
streets,  as  he  pressed  straight  for  the  house 
of  McKean,  then  president  of  congress. 
Thundering  at  the  door  as  though  he 
would  force  an  entrance,  he  roused  the 
sleeping  president,  saying,  "Cornwallis  is 
taken  ! '  The  watchmen  caught  the  words, 
and  when  they  called  "  One  o'clock,"  they 
added,  "and  Cornwallis  is  taken!"  As 
they  moved  slowly  on  their  nightly  rounds, 
windows  were  flung  open  and  eager  coun 
tenances  were  everywhere  scanning  the 
streets.  A  hum,  like  that  of  an  awaken 


ing  hive,  immediately  pervaded  the  city, 
The  inhabitants  went  pouring  into  the 
streets,  while  shout  after  shout  rose  on  the 
midnight  air.  The  old  bellman  was  roused 
from  his  slumbers,  and  soon  the  iron 
tongue  of  the  bell  at  the  state-house  rang 
out,  as  of  old,  "Proclaim  liberty  through 
out  all  the  land  to  all  the  inhabitants 
thereof."  The  dawn  was  greeted  with  the 
booming  of  cannon  ;  and  salvos  of  artillery, 
and  shouts  of  joy,  and  tears  of  thanksgiving, 


accompanied  the  glad  news  as  it  traveled 
exultingly  over  the  length  and  breadth  of 
the  land.  Every  voice  was  loud  in  its 
praise  of  General  Washington,  and  of  his 
gallant  ally,  the  Count  de  Rochambeau. 

It  is  stated  as  an  interesting  fact  in  the 
history  of  this  great  event  and  the  charac 
ter  of  the  two  chief  commanders,  that,  on 
the  day  after  the  surrender,  Cornwallis 
went  in  person  to  pay  his  respects  to  Gen 
eral  Washington  and  await  his  orders. 
The  captive  chief  was  received  with  all  the 
courtesy  due  to  a  gallant  and  unfortunate 
foe.  The  elegant  manners,  together  with 
the  manly,  frank,  and  soldierly  bearing  of 
Cornwallis,  soon  made  him  a  prime  favor 
ite  at  head-quarters,  and  he  often  formed 
part  of  the  suite  of  the  commander-in- 
chief  in  his  rides  to  inspect  the  leveling  of 
the  works  previous  to  the  retirement  of  the 
combined  American  and  French  armies 
from  before  Yorktown.  At  the  grand  din 
ner  given  at  the  head-quarters  to  the  offi 
cers  of  the  three  armies,  Washington  filled 
his  glass,  and,  after  his  favorite  toast, 
whether  in  peace  or  war,  of  "All  our 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


Ill 


friends,"  gave  "The  British  army,"  with 
some  complimentary  remarks  upon  its 
chief,  his  proud  career  in  arms,  and  his 
gallant  defense  of  Yorktown.  When  it 
came  to  Cormvallis's  turn,  he  prefaced  his 
toast  by  saying  that  the  war  was  virtually 
at  an  end,  and  the  contending  parties 
would  soon  embrace  as  friends ;  there 
might  be  affairs  of  posts,  but  nothing  on 
a  more  enlarged  scale,  as  it  was  scarcely 


to  be  expected  that  the  ministry  would 
send  another  army  to  America.  Then 
turning  to  Washington,  his  lordship  con 
tinued — 

"And  when  the  illustrious  part  that 
your  excellency  has  borne  in  this  long  and 
arduous  contest  becomes  matter  of  history, 
fame  will  gather  your  brightest  laurels 
rather  from  the  banks  of  the  Delaware 
than  from  those  of  the  Chesapeake." 


VII. 
ADIEU  TO  THE  ARMY  BY  WASHINGTON.— 1783. 


Affecting  Interviews  and  Parting  Words  between  the  Great  Chieftain  and  His  Comrades-in-Arms. — 
Solemn  Farewell  Audience  with  Congress — In  Its  Presence  He  Voluntarily  Divests  Himself  of  His 
Supreme  Authority,  Returns  His  Victorious  Sword,  and  Becomes  a  Private  Citizen  — History  of  tho 
Election  of  a  Military  Leader. — America's  Destiny  in  His  Hands — Appointment  of  George  Wash 
ington — The  Army  at  Cambridge,  Mass — He  Immediate!}'  Takes  Command — Is  Enthusiastically 
Greeted  — Leads  Its  Fortunes  Seven  Years — Record  of  His  Generalship. — Ends  the  War  in  Tri 
umph. — Scheme  to  Make  Him  King. — Indignantly  Rebukes  the  Proposal — Last  Review  of  His 
Troops. — His  Strong  Attachment  for  Them — Intention  to  Leave  Public  Life — Congress  Informed  of 
this  Fact. — Embarkation  from  New  York. — Homage  Paid  Him  Everywhere — Arrival  at  Annapo 
lis — Proceeds  to  the  Halls  of  Congress. — Impressive  Ceremonial  There — Rare  Event  in  Human 
History. 


"  Having  now  flnlnhed  the  work  «i<al|rned  me,  I  retire  from  the  theater  of  «ctlon,  and,  bidding  an  affectionate  farewell  to  thl«  amuM  body 
under  who«e  order*  1  have  TO  long  acted,  I  here  offer  my  commiuion,  and  take  my  leave  of  all  the  employ  menu  of  public  life."— WAS  ins  o- 
loy'a  KKriUKME.iT  A»  REVOLUTIONARY  LEADER. 


FHAT  momentous  object  for  which  the  War  of  Independence  was  for 
seven  long  years  waged,  under  the  supreme  leadership  of  General 
Washington,  having  been  achieved  by  the  unconditional  acknowledg 
ment  of  that  independence  on  the  part  of  Great  Britain,  a  cessation 
of  hostilities  was  formally  announced  by  congress  to  a  rejoicing 
people.  Washington's  military  course  having  thus  honorably  and 
successfully  terminated,  he,  Cincinnatus-like,  sheathed  his  sword, 
and  surrendered  his  high  commission  to  that  power  which  had  in 
vested  him  with  its  authority.  It  will,  therefore,  not  only  be  appro 
priate,  but  of  peculiar  interest,  to  link  together,  in  one  narrative,  the 
circumstances  attending  his  appointment  to  the  responsible  office  of 
commander-in-chief  of  the  revolutionary  army,  and  that  last  great 
act — the  Return  of  his  Commission — in  the  stupendous  drama  of 
which  he  was  the  central  figure. 

To  that  sterling  old  patriot,  John  Adams,  the  credit  of  the  wisdom 
of  selecting  Washington  as  military  chieftain  principally  belongs. 
It  was  a  question,  on  the  decision  of  which  hung  the  fate  of  the  rev 
olutionary  cause;  and  in  all  parts  of  the  country,  among  the  people 
at  large  as  well  as  in  the  more  immediate  circles  of  congress,  by 
whom  the  great  question  was  finally  to  be  determined,  the  discussion 
as  to  who  should  be  chosen  as  the  nation's  leader  in  the  councils  of 
SWORD,  war  and  on  the  battle-field,  was  universal.  Mr.  Adams  states  that 
in  regard  to  this  election,  there  was  in  congress  a  southern  party  against  a  north 
ern,  and  a  jealousy  against  a  New  England  army  under  the  command  of  a 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


113 


New  England  general ;  but  whether  this 
jealousy  was  sincere,  or  whether  it  was 
mere  pride  and  ambition — the  ambition  of 
furnishing  a  southern  general  to  command 
the  northern  army, —  was  a  matter  of 
doubt.  The  intention,  however,  was  very 
visible  that  Colonel  Washington  was  their 
object. 

The  military  ability  which  had  been  dis 
played,  on  different  occasions,  by  Colonel 
Washington,  were  well  understood,  and, 
from  the  conspicuous  positions  in  which 
he  had  thus  been  placed,  and  the  saga 
cious  judgment  which  was  known  to  have 
characterized  him  in  important  emergen 
cies,  he  had,  for  a  long  time  past,  enjoA'ed 
a  fine  reputation  throughout  the  colonies, 
as  a  gallant  and  successful  officer.  He  was 
only  in  a  moderate  sense  a  partisan,  in 
the  difficulties  and  discussions  which  had 
arisen  between  his  own  and  the  mother 
country ;  but,  from  the  very  first,  he  ex 
hibited  sufficient  repugnance  to  any  atti 
tude  of  vassalage,  on  the  part  of  his  coun 
trymen,  to  show  that  he  would  be  no  will 
ing  subject  of  coercion,  should  the  preten 
sions  of  the  British  be  attempted  to  be  car 
ried  out  by  threats,  or  by  recourse  to  arms. 

When  congress  had  assembled,  Mr. 
John  Adams  arose  in  his  place,  and  in  as 
short  a  speech  as  the  subject  would  admit 
represented  the  state  of  the  colonies,  the 
uncertainty  in  the  minds  of  the  people, 
their  great  expectation  and  anxiety,  the 
distresses  of  the  army,  the  danger  of  its 
dissolution,  the  difficulty  of  collecting  an 
other  ;  and  the  probability  that  the  Brit 
ish  army  would  take  advantage  of  these 
delays,  march  out  of  Boston,  and  spread 
desolation  as  far  as  they  could  go.  He 
concluded  with  a  motion,  in  form,  that 
congress  would  adopt  the  army  at  Cam 
bridge,  and  appoint  a  general ;  that  though 
this  was  not  the  proper  time  to  nominate  a 
general,  yet  as  there  existed  reasons  for 
believing  this  to  be  the  greatest  difficulty, 
he  had  no  hesitation  to  declare  that  there 
was  but  one  gentleman  in  his  mind  for 
that  important  office,  and  that  was  a  gen 
tleman  from  Virginia — one  of  their  own 
number,  and  well  known  to  them  all, — a 
8 


gentleman  whose  skill  and  experience  as  an 
officer,  whose  independent  fortune,  great 
talents,  and  excellent  general  character, 
would  command  the  approbation  of  all 
America,  and  unite  the  cordial  exertions 
of  all  the  colonies  better  than  any  other 
person  in  the  Union. 

Mr.  Washington,  who  happened  to  sit 
near  the  door,  as  soon  as  he  heard  this  al 
lusion  to  himself,  with  his  usual  modesty, 
darted  into  the  library  room. 

The  subject  came  under  debate,  and 
several  gentlemen  declared  themselves 
against  the  appointment  of  Mr.  Washing 
ton,  not  on  account  of  any  personal  objec 
tion  against  him,  but  because  the  army 
were  all  from  New  England,  had  a  general 
of  their  own,  appeared  to  be  satisfied  with 
him,  and  had  proved  themselves  able  to 
imprison  the  British  army  in  Boston. 
Mr.  Pendleton,  of  Virginia,  and  Mr. 
Sherman,  of  Connecticut,  were  very  ex 
plicit  in  declaring  this  opinion.  Mr. 
Gushing  and  others  more  faintly  expressed 
their  opposition,  and  their  fears  of  discon 
tent  in  the  army  and  in  New  England. 
Mr.  Paine  expressed  a  great  opinion  of 
General  Ward,  and  a  strong  friendship 
for  him,  having  been  his  classmate  at  col 
lege,  or,  at  least,  his  contemporary ;  but 
gave  no  opinion  on  the  question.  The 
subject  was  postponed  to  a  future  day.  In 
the  meantime,  pains  were  taken  out  of 
doors  to  obtain  a  unanimity,  and  the  voices 
were  generally  so  clearly  in  favor  of  Wash 
ington,  that  the  dissenting  members  were 
persuaded  to  withdraw  their  opposition, 
and  Mr.  Washington  was  nominated  by 
Mr.  Thomas  Johnson,  of  Maryland,  unan 
imously  elected,  and  the  army  adopted. 

His  official  commission  was  at  once 
drawn  up  and  presented  to  him  ;  a  copy  of 
which  most  interesting  document  is  given 
below : — 

"  In  Congress.  We  the  delegates  of  the 
United  Colonies  of  New  Hampshire,  Mas 
sachusetts  Bay,  Rhode  Island,  Connecticut, 
New  York,  New  Jersey,  Pennsylvania, 
New  Castle,  Kent,  and  Sussex  on  Dela 
ware,  Maryland,  Virginia,  North  Carolina, 
and  South  Carolina, 


114 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


To  George    Washington,  Esquire  : 

We,  reposing  special  trust  and  coi.n- 
dence  in  your  patriotism,  conduct,  and 
fidelity,  do  by  these  presents  constitute  and 
appoint  you  to  be  GENERAL  and  COM- 
MAXDER-IN-CHIEF  of  the  army  of  the 
United  Colonies,  and  of  all  the  forces 
raised  or  to  be  raised  by  them,  and  of  all 
others  who  shall  voluntarily  offer  their 
services  and  join  the  said  army  for  the  de 
fense  of  American  liberty,  and  for  repelling 
every  hostile  invasion  thereof.  And  you 
are  hereby  invested  with  full  power  and 
authority  to  act  as  you  shall  think  for  the 
good  and  welfare  of  the  service. 

And  we  do  hereby  strictly  charge  and 
require  alt  officers  and  soldiers  under  your 
command  to  be  obedient  to  your  orders, 
and  diligent  in  the  exercise  of  their  several 
duties. 

And  we  do  also  enjoin  and  require  you 
to  be  careful  in  executing  the  great  trust 
reposed  in  you,  by  causing  strict  discipline 
and  order  to  be  observed  in  the  army,  and 
that  the  soldiers  are  duly  exercised  and 
provided  with  all  convenient  necessaries. 

And  you  are  to  regulate  your  conduct  in 
every  respect  by  the  rules  and  discipline 
of  war,  (as  herewith  given  you,)  and  pv  > 
tually  to  observe  and  follow  such  direc 
tions,  from  time  to  time,  as  you  shall  re 
ceive  from  this  or  a  future  Congress  of  the 
said  United  Colonies,  or  a  Committee  of 
Congress  for  that  purpose  appointed. 

This  commission  to  continue  in  force  till 
revoked  by  this  or  a  future  Congress. 
By  order  of  Congress. 

JOHN  HANCOCK,  President. 
Dated,  Philadelphia,  June  19,  1775. 
Attest,  CHARLES  THOMSON,  Secretary." 

On  the  second  day  of  July,  1775,  Wash 
ington  arrived  in  Cambridge,  Massachu 
setts,  accompanied  by  Majors-General  Lee, 
his  next  in  command,  and  other  officers, 
establishing  his  head-quarters  at  the  man 
sion  subsequently  occupied  by  Longfellow, 
the  elegant  scholar  and  poet.  At  about 
nine  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  next 
day,  Washington,  attended  by  a  suitable 
escort,  proceeded  from  his  head-quarters  to 
a  great  elm  tree — one  of  the  majestic  na 


tives  of  the  forest, — near  Harvard  College, 
and  where  the  continental  forces  were 
drawn  up  in  military  order.  Under  the 
shadow  of  that  wide-spreading  tree,  Wash 
ington,  moving  forward  a  few  paces,  drew 
his  sword  as  commander-in-chief  of  the 
American  army,  declaring  that  it  should 


THE  WASHINGTON   ELM,   CAMBRIDGE,   MASS. 

never  be  sheathed  until  the  liberties  of  his 
country  were  established.  The  record  of 
his  services  is  the  history  of  the  whole 
war.  Joining  the  army  in  July,  1775,  he 
compelled  the  British  to  evacuate  Boston 
in  March,  1776;  he  then  followed  the 
British  to  New  York,  fighting  the  battle 
of  Long  Island  on  the  twenty-seventh  of 
August,  and  that  of  White  Plains  on  the 
twenty-eighth  of  October.  On  the  twenty- 
fifth  of  December  he  made  the  memorable 
passage  of  the  Delaware,  and  soon  gained 
the  victories  of  Trenton  and  Princeton. 
The  battle  of  Brandywine  was  fought  on 
the  eleventh  of  September,  1777,  and  that 
of  Germantown,  October  fourth.  Febru 
ary  twenty-eighth,  1778,  witnessed  his 
"  glorious  and  happy  day,"  as  he  himself 
termed  it,  at  Monmouth.  In  1779  and 
1780  he  conducted  the  military  operations 
in  the  vicinity  of  New  York  ;  after  which, 
in  1781,  he  marched  to  Virginia  to  watch 
the  movements  of  Lord  Cornwallis,  whom 
he  forced  to  surrender  at  York  town,  in 
October,  by  which  great  achievement  he 
put  an  end  to  the  active  operations  of  the 
revolutionary  struggle,  and  secured  peace 
and  independence  to  his  country. 

With    the    return    of    peace,    and    the 
achievement   of   independent   nationality, 


GEE  AT  AND  MEMOBABLE  EVENTS. 


115 


the  wisdom  and  patriotism  of  Washington 
were  to  be  severely  tested,  and  in  a  most 
unexpected  manner,  in  connection  with  the 
form  of  government  to  be  adopted  by  the 
United  States.  The  English  government 
was  regarded  by  many  of  the  strongest 
American  minds  as,  in  most  respects,  a 
model  one  ;  and  by  many  persons  the  En 
glish  form  of  a  constitutional  monarchy 
was  decided,  especially  by  some  of  the 
army  officers,  to  be  the  most  promising, 
and  thus  far  the  most  successful,  experi 
ment  in  government,  and  the  one  most 


this  scheme  called  a  secret  meeting,  and 
finally  determined  on  the  title  of  KING, 
and  Washington  was  informed  of  the  fact. 
He  spurned  the  gilded  bribe  of  a  king's 
crown,  and  promptly  and  sternly  rebuked 
the  abettors  of  the  scheme  in  the  following 
letter  addressed  to  their  leader  : 

"  Sir, — With  a  mixture  of  great  sur 
prise  and  astonishment,  I  have  read  with 
attention  the  sentiments  you  have  sub 
mitted  to  my  perusal.  Be  assured,  sir, 
no  occurrence  in  the  course  of  this  war  has 
given  me  more  painful  sensations  than 


WASHINGTON'S 

likely  to  be  adopted  by  America  upon  due 
deliberation.  Universal  dissatisfaction  was 
felt  with  the  proceedings  and  conduct  of 
congress  as  a  governing  power,  and  there 
fore  some  agency  superior  to  that,  and  of 
controlling  prerogative,  was  proposed, — a 
head,  like  the  English  sovereign,  with 
proper  safeguards  against  usurpation. 
Circumstances,  of  course,  indicated  Wash 
ington  as  that  head,  and  the  next  ques 
tion  naturally  arose — under  what  official 
title  should  such  a  head  rule  ?  The  officers 
around  Newburgh  who  were  associated  in 


RESIGNATION. 


your  information  of  there  being  such  ideas 
existing  in  the  army  as  you  have  expressed, 
and  which  I  must  view  with  abhorrence 
and  reprehend  with  severity.  For  the 
present,  the  communication  of  them  will 
rest  in  my  own  bosom,  unless  some  further 
agitation  of  the  matter  shall  make  a  dis 
closure  necessary.  I  am  much  at  a  loss  to 
conceive  what  part  of  my  conduct  could 
have  given  encouragement  to  an  address 
which  to  me  seems  big  with  the  greatest 
mischiefs  that  can  befall  my  country.  If 
I  am  not  deceived  in  the  knowledge  of 


116 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


myself,  you  could  not  have  found  a  person 
to  whom  your  schemes  are  more  disagree 
able.  At  the  same  time,  in  justice  to  my 
own  feelings,  I  must  add,  that  no  man 
possesses  a  more  serious  wish  to  see  ample 
justice  done  to  the  army  than  I  do ;  and, 
as  far  as  my  power  and  influence,  in  a  con 
stitutional  way,  extend,  they  shall  be  em 
ployed  to  the  utmost  of  my  abilities  to 
effect  it,  should  there  be  any  occasion. 
Let  me  conjure  you,  then,  if  you  have  any 
regard  for  your  country,  concern  for  your 
self  or  posterity,  or  respect  for  me,  to 
banish  these  thoughts  from  your  mind,  and 
never  communicate,  as  from  yourself  or 
any  one  else,  a  sentiment  of  the  like  na 
ture." 

In  perfect  keeping  with  the  spirit  in 
which  Washington  treated  the  dazzling 
offer  thus  so  unexpectedly  set  before  him, 
was  the  simplicity  of  his  conduct  in  bid 
ding  adieu  to  his  comrades-in-arms,  and 
then  presenting  himself  before  congress, 
there  to  deliver  up  his  sword,  and  volunta 
rily  divest  himself  of  the  supreme  com 
mand ; —  in  the  serene  and  thoughtful 
phraseology  of  his  own  words,  "  to  address 
himself  once  more,  and  that  for  the  last 
time,  to  the  armies  of  the  United  States, 
however  widely  dispersed  the  individuals 
who  compose  them  may  be,  and  to  bid  them 
an  affectionate  and  a  long  farewell." 

For  the  last  time,  he  assembled  them  at 
Newburgh,  when  he  rode  out  on  the  field, 
and  gave  them  one  of  those  paternal  ad 
dresses  which  so  eminently  characterized 
his  relationship  with  his  army.  To  the 
tune  of  "  Roslin  Castle," — the  soldier's 
dirge, — his  brave  comrades  passed  slowly 
by  their  great  leader,  and  filed  away  to  their 
respective  homes.  It  was  a  thrilling  scene. 
There  were  gray-headed  soldiers,  who  had 
grown  old  by  hardships  and  exposures,  and 
too  old  to  begin  life  anew  ;  tears  coursed 
freely  the  furrowed  cheeks  of  these  veter 
ans.  Among  the  thousands  passing  in 
review  before  him  were  those,  also,  who 
had  done  valorous  service  when  the  destiny 
of  the  country  hung  tremblingly  in  the 
balance.  As  Washington  looked  upon 
them  for  the  last  time,  he  said,  "  I  am 


growing  old  in  my  country's  service,  and 
losing  my  sight ;  but  I  never  doubted  its 
justice  or  gratitude."  Even  on  the  rudest 
and  roughest  of  the  soldiery,  the  effect  of 
his  parting  language  was  irresistible. 

On  the  fourth  of  December,  1783,  by 
Washington's  request,  his  officers  in  full 
uniform,  assembled  in  Fraunces's  tavern, 
New  York,  to  take  a  final  leave  of  their 
commander-in-chief.  On  entering  the 
room,  and  finding  himself  surrounded  by 
his  old  companions-in-arms,  who  had 
shared  with  him  so  many  scenes  of  hard 
ship,  difficult}-,  and  danger,  his  agitated 
feelings  overcame  his  usual  self-command. 
Every  man  arose  with  eyes  turned  towards 
him.  Filling  a  glass  of  wine,  and  lifting  it 
to  his  lips,  he  rested  his  benignant  but  sad 
dened  countenance  upon  them,  and  said, — 

"  With  a  heart  full  of  love  and  grati 
tude,  I  now  take  leave  of  3*011.  I  most  de 
voutly  wish  that  }-our  latter  days  may  be 
as  prosperous  as  your  former  ones  have 
been  honorable  and  glorious."  Having 
drunk,  he  added,  "I  cannot  come  to  each 
of  you  to  take  my  leave,  but  shall  be 
obliged  to  you,  if  each  of  you  will  come 
and  take  me  by  the  hand."  A  profound 
silence  followed,  as  each  officer  gazed  on 
the  countenance  of  their  leader,  while  the 
eyes  of  all  were  wet  with  tears.  He  then 
expressed  again  his  desire  that  each  of 
them  should  come  and  take  him  by  the 
hand.  The  first,  being  nearest  to  him, 
was  General  Knox,  who  grasped  his  hand 
in  silence,  and  both  embraced  each  other 
without  uttering  a  word.  One  after  an 
other  followed,  receiving  and  returning  the 
affectionate  adieu  of  their  commander, 
after  which  he  left  the  room  in  silence, 
followed  by  his  officers  in  procession,  to 
embark  in  the  "barge  that  was  to  convey 
him  to  Paulus's  Hook,  now  Jersey  City. 
As  he  was  passing  through  the  light  in 
fantry  drawn  up  on  either  side  to  receive 
him,  an  old  soldier,  who  was  by  his  side 
on  the  terrible  night  of  his  march  to- 
Trenton,  stepped  out  from  the  ranks,  and 
reaching  out  his  arms,  exclaimed,  "  Fare 
well,  my  dea-r  general,  farewell!'"  Wash 
ington  seized  his  hand  most  heartily,  when, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


117 


the  soldiers  forgot  all  discipline,  rushed 
towards  their  chief,  and  bathed  him  with 
their  tears.  The  scene  was  like  that  of  a 
good  patriarch  taking  leave  of  his  children, 
and  going  on  a  long  journey,  from  whence 
lie  might  return  no  more. 

Having  entered  the  barge,  he  turned  to 
the  weeping  company  upon  the  wharf,  and 
waving  his  hat,  bade  them  a  silent  adieu. 
They  stood  with  heads  uncovered,  until 
the  barge  was  hidden  from  their  view, 
when,  in  silent  and  solemn  procession,  they 
returned  to  the  place  where  they  had  as 
sembled.  Congress  was  at  this  time  in 
session  at  Annapolis,  Maryland,  to  which 
place  Washington  now  proceeded,  greeted 
along  his  whole  route  with  enthusiastic 
homage,  for  the  purpose  of  formally  resign 
ing  his  commission.  He  arrived  on  the 
nineteenth  of  December,  1783,  and  the 
next  day  he  informed  congress  of  the  pur 
pose  for  which  he  had  come,  and  requested 
to  know  whether  it  would  be  their  pleas 
ure  that  he  should  offer  his  resignation  in 
writing,  or  at  an  audience.  A  committee 
was  appointed  by  congress,  and  it  was  de 
cided  that  on  Tuesday,  December  twenty- 
third,  the  ceremonial  should  take  place  as 
follows : — 

The  president  and  members  are  to  be 
seated  and  covered,  and  the  secretary  to 
be  standing  by  the  side  of  the  president ; 
the  arrival  of  the  general  to  be  announced 
by  the  messenger  to  the  secretary,  who  is 
thereupon  to  introduce  the  general,  at 
tended  by  his  aids,  into  the  hall  of  con 
gress  ;  the  general,  being  conducted  to  a 
chair  by  the  secretary,  is  to  be  seated,  with 
an  aid  on  each  side  standing,  and  the 
.secretary  is  to  resume  his  place.  After  a 
proper  time  for  the  arrangement  of  spec 
tators,  silence  is  to  be  ordered  by  the  sec 
retary,  if  necessary,  and  the  president  is  to 
address  the  general  in  the  following 
words :  "  Sir, — The  United  States  in  con 
gress  assembled  are  prepared  to  receive  your 
communications."  Whereupon  the  gen 
eral  is  to  arise  and  address  congress  ;  after 
which  he  is  to  deliver  his  commission  and 
a  copy  of  his  address  to  the  president. 
'The  general  having  resumed  his  place,  the 


president  is  to  deliver  the  answer  of  con 
gress,  which  the  general  is  to  receive 
standing;  the  president  having  finished, 
the  secretary  is  to  deliver  the  general  a 
copy  of  the  answer,  and  the  general  is  then 
to  take  his  leave.  When  the  general  rises 
to  make  his  address,  and  also  when  he 
retires,  he  is  to  bow  to  congress,  which 
they  are  to  return  by  uncovering  without 
bowing. 

When  the  hour  arrived,  the  president, 
General  Mifflin,  informed  him  that  that 
body  was  prepared  to  receive  his  commu 
nications.  With  a  native  dignity,  height 
ened  by  the  solemnity  of  the  occasion,  the 
general  rose.  In  a  brief  and  appropriate 
speech  he  offered  his  congratulations  on 
the  termination  of  the  war,  and  having 
alluded  to  his  object  in  appearing  thus  in 
that  presence, — that  he  might  resign  into 
the  hands  of  congress  the  trust  committed 
to  him,  and  claim  the  indulgence  of  retir 
ing  from  the  public  service, — he  concluded 
with  those  affecting  words,  which  drew 
tears  from  the  eyes  of  all  in  that  vast  as 
sembly  : 

"  I  consider  it  an  indispensable  duty  to 
close  this  last  act  of  my  official  life,  by 
commending  the  interests  of  our  dearest 
country  to  the  protection  of  Almighty 
God,  and  those  who  have  the  superintend 
ence  of  them,  to  his  holy  keeping.  Having 
now  finished  the  work  assigned  me,  I 
retire  from  the  theater  of  action,  and, 
bidding  an  affectionate  farewell  to  this 
august  body,  under  whose  orders  I  have  so 
long  acted,  I  here  offer  my  commission, 
and  take  my  leave  of  all  the  employments 
of  public  life." 

After  advancing  to  the  chair,  and  deliv 
ering  his  commission  to  the  president,  he 
returned  to  his  place,  and  remained  stand 
ing,  while  General  Mifflin  replied,  review 
ing  the  great  career  thus  brought  to  a 
close,  and  saying,  in  conclusion  : 

"  The  glory  of  your  virtues  will  not  ter 
minate  with  your  military  command;  it 
will  continue  to  animate  the  remotest  ages. 
We  join  with  you  in  commending  the  in 
terests  of  our  country  to  Almighty  God, 
beseeching  Him  to  dispose  the  hearts  and 


118 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


minds  of  its  citizens  to  improve  the  op 
portunity  afforded  them  of  becoming 
a  happy  and  respectable  nation.  And 
for  you,  we  address  to  Him  our  warm 
est  prayers,  that  a  life  so  beloved  may 


be  fostered  with  all  His  care,  that  your 
days  may  be  as  happy  as  they  have  been 
illustrious,  and  that  He  will  finally  give 
you  that  reward  which  this  world  cannot 
bestow." 


VIII. 

APPOINTMENT    OF   THE   FIRST   MINISTER   PLENIPOTEN 
TIARY,   FROM  THE   NEW  REPUBLIC   TO  THE 
ENGLISH  COURT.— 1785. 


John  Adams,  America's  Sturdiest  Patriot,  and  the  Foremost  Enemy  of  British  Tyranny,  Fills  this 
High  Office — Interview  between  Him  and  King  George,  His  Late  Sovereign — Their  Addresses, 
Temper,  Personal  Bearing,  and  Humorous  Conversation. — The  Two  Men  Rightly  Matched  Against 
Each  Other. — Old  Animosities  Unhealed — Mutual  Charges  of  False  Pealing. — Settlement  Demanded 
by  the  United  States. — What  Adams's  Mission  Involved — Dismemberment  of  the  British  Realm. — 
Loss  of  the  Fairest  Possession. — Bitter  Pill  for  the  King. — His  Obstinacy  Forced  to  Yield  — Humilia 
tion  of  the  Proud  Monarch. — All  Europe  Watches  the  Event. — Mr.  Adams  Presented  at  Court. — Pa 
triot  and  King  Face  to  Face. — Official  Address  by  the  Minister. — Reply  of  King  George. — His  Visi- 
ible  Agitation. — Adams's  Presence  of  Mind. — Pays  His  Homage  to  the  Queen  — Her  Majesty's  Re 
sponse  — Civilities  by  the  Royal  Family. — Results  of  this  Embassy. — Pitiable  Position  of  George  the 
Third. — Fatal  Error  of  Great  Britain. 


'I  must  avow  to  your  majesty,  I  have  no  attachment  but  to  my  own  country."— Jouw  ADAMS  TO  KINO  UEOROE. 
"An  honest  man  will  have  no  other."--TnK  KINO'S  INSTANT  REI-LV. 


0  deep-seated  and  festering  were 
the  old  animosities  between  Amer 
ica  and  the  mother  country,  that, 
scarcely  had  the  war  of  the  revo 
lution  terminated,  when  the  two 
nations  reciprocally  charged  each 
other  with  violating  the  treaty  of 
peace.  The  United  States  were 
accused  of  having  infringed  those 
articles  which  contained  agree 
ments  respecting  the  payment  of 

debts,  tllC  confiscation  of 


ASI1TV   BETWEEN  ENGLAND   AND  AMERICA. 

and  prosecution  of  individuals  for  the  part  taken  by  them  during  the  war.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  English  were  charged  with  violating  that  article  which  stipulated 
against  the  destruction  or  carrying  away  of  any  description  of  American  property; 
the  king  was  also  complained  of,  for  still  retaining  possession  of  the  posts  on  the 
American  side  of  the  great  lakes,  thus  influencing  the  Indian  tribes  to  hostility; 
and,  above  all  other  sources  and  causes  of  complaint,  in  the  conduct  of  Great  Britain, 
was  her  rigorous  and  restrictive  commercial  system. 

These  growing  misunderstandings  between  the  two  countries,  discussed  with  such 
angry  vehemence  on  both  sides,  threatened  such  serious  consequences  should  their  adjust 
ment  be  much  longer  delayed,  that  congress  determined  upon  the  important  step  of 


120 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-187G. 


appointing,  after  the  manner  of  independ 
ent  nations,  a  Minister  Plenipotentiary  to 
the  court  of  Great  Britain! 

In  February,  1785,  John  Adams  was 
duly  accredited  ambassador,  to  represent 
the  United  States  at  that  court. 

That  George  the  Third  was  as  obstinate 
a  man  as  ever  ruled  a  kingdom,  no  histo 
rian  has  ever  questioned.  Having  struck 
at  the  rights  and  liberties  of  America,  in 
order  to  add  to  the  riches  of  his  coffers, 
nothing  could  turn  him  from  his  determin 


ation  to  rule,  or  to  ruin  and  destroy.  To 
the  suggestion  that  the  king's  rule  over 
the  colonies  might  be  slightly  softened  or 
modified,  Lord  North  despairingly  replied  : 
"It  is  to  no  purpose  the  making  objec 
tions,  for  the  king  will  have  it  so."  But 
in  no  more  forcible  phrase  could  the  king's 
arbitrary  temper  concerning  his  colonies 
be  shown,  that  in  that  which  fell  from  his 
own  lips,  in  the  presence  of  the  new  en 
voy,  namely,  "  /  was  the  last  man  in  the 
kingdom,  sir,  to  consent  to  the  independ 
ence  of  America," 

Of  all  the  opponents  of  British  misrule, 
in  the  western  world,  John  Adams  was 
the  earliest,  ablest,  most  intrepid  and  un 
tiring.  It  was  John  Adams,  who,  in 


1775,  in  the  memorable  continental  con 
gress,  at  Philadelphia,  suggested  George 
Washington  as  commander-in-chief  of  the 
army  that  was  to  wage  war  against  Great 
Britain — and,  even  before  this  crowning 
act,  had  sent  across  the  Atlantic,  ringing 
into  the  ears  of  the  haughty  monarch,  the 
epithets  tyrant  and  itsurjH-r. 

The  kingly  ceremony  of  acknowledging 
the  colonies  independent  took  place,  in  con 
formity  with  previous  arrangements,  on 
the  fifth  of  December,  1782,  in  the  house 
of  lords.  The  scene  was  one  which 
drew  together  an  immense  and  won 
dering  crowd  of  spectators,  conspicu 
ous  among  whom  was  the  celebrated 
admiral  Lord  Howe,  who  had  just  re 
turned  from  a  successful  relief  of 
Gibraltar,  and  who  had  now  elbowed 
himself  exactly  in  front  of  the  throne, 
to  listen,  sadly,  to  his  country's  hu 
miliation.  The  ladies  of  the  nobility 
occupied  the  lords'  seats  on  the  wool 
sacks,  so  called,  as  an  emblem  of  the 
power  and  wealth  of  old  England, 
because  it  had  been  mainly  derived 
from  wool.  The  lords  were  standing 
here  and  there  promiscuously.  It 
was  a  dark  and  foggy  day,  and  the 
windows  being  elevated  and  con 
structed  in  the  antiquated  style,  with 
leaden  bars  to  contain  the  diamond- 
cut  panes  of  glass,  augmented  the 
gloom.  The  walls  were  also  hung 
with  dark  tapestry,  representing  the  de 
feat  of  the  great  Spanish  armada.  The 
celebrated  American  painters,  West  and 
Copley,  were  in  the  throng,  with  some 
American  ladies,  also  a  number  of  dejected- 
looking  American  royalists.  After  a 
tedious  suspense  of  nearly  two  hours,  the 
approach  of  the  king  was  announced  by  a 
tremendous  roar  of  artillery.  He  entered 
by  a  small  door  on  the  left  of  the  throne, 
and  immediately  seated  himself  in  the  chair 
of  state,  in  a  graceful  attitude,  with  his 
right  foot  resting  on  a  stool.  He  was 
clothed  in  the  magnificent  robes  of  British 
majesty.  Evidently  agitated,  he  drew 
slowly  from  his  pocket  a  scroll  containing 
his  humbling  speech.  The  commons  were 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


121 


summoned,  and,  after  the  bustle  of  their 
entrance  had  subsided,  the  thrilling  mo 
ment  arrived,  when  the  speech  was  to  be 
read.  After  some  general  remarks,  usual 
on  public  occasions,  he  said : 

"  I  lost  no  time  in  giving  the  necessary 
orders  to  prohibit  the  further  prosecution 
of  offensive  war  upon  the  continent  of 
North  America.  Adopting,  as  my  inclin 
ation  will  always  lead  me  to  do,  with  de 
cision  and  effect,  whatever  I  collect  to  be 
the  sense  of  my  parliament  and  my  people, 
I  have  pointed  all  my  views  and  measures, 
in  Europe,  as  in  North  America,  to  an 
entire  and  cordial  reconciliation  with  the 
colonies.  Finding  it  indispensable  to  the 
attainment  of  this  object,  I  did  not  hesi 
tate  to  go  to  the  full  length  of  the  power 
vested  in  me,  and  therefore  I  now  declare 
them  " — here  he  paused,  in  evident  agita 
tion,  either  embarrassed  in  reading  his 
speech,  by  the  darkness  of  the  room,  or 
affected  by  a  very  natural  emotion,  but, 
recovering  himself  in  a  moment  by  a 
strong  convulsive  movement,  he  added — 
"free  and  independent  states.  In  thus 
admitting  their  separation  from  the  crown 
of  this  kingdom,  I  have  sacrificed  every 
consideration  of  my  own,  to  the  wishes  and 
opinions  of  my  people.  I  make  it  my 
humble  and  ardent  prayer  to  Almighty 
God,  that  Great  Britain  may  not  feel  the 
evils  which  might  result  from  so  great  a 
dismemberment  of  the  empire,  and  that 
America  may  be  free  from  the  calamities 
which  have  formerly  proved,  in  the  mother 
country,  how  essential  monarchy  is  to  the 
enjoyment  of  constitutional  liberty.  Re 
ligion,  language,  interests,  and  affection 
may,  and  I  hope  will,  yet  prove  a  bond  of 
permanent  union  between  the  two  coun 
tries." 

It  was  universally  remarked  of  King 
George,  that,  though  celebrated  for  read 
ing  his  speeches  in  a  distinct,  composed, 
and  impressive  manner,  he  was  on  this 
occasion  painfully  lacking  in  his  usual 
self-possession ;  he  hesitated,  choked,  and 
executed  the  high  but  humbling  duties  of 
the  occasion,  in  a  manner  which  showed 
that  he  was  deeply  mortified. 


Mr.  Adams  was  at  Paris  when  he  re 
ceived  information  of  his  appointment,  in 
1785,  to  confront  his  late  king  and  royal 
master.  In  an  account  given  by  Mr. 
Adams  himself,  of  his  movements  at  this 
time,  he  says :  At  Versailles,  the  Count 
de  Vergennes  said  he  had  many  felicita 
tions  to  give  me  upon  my  appointment  to 
England.  I  answered  that  I  did  not 
know  but  it  merited  compassion  more  than 
felicitation.  "Ay,  why?"  "Because,  as 
you  know,  it  is  a  species  of  degradation,  in 
the  eyes  of  Europe,  after  having  been  ac 
credited  to  the  king  of  France,  to  be  sent 
to  any  other  court." 

"  But  permit  me  to  say,"  replies  the 
count,  "it  is  a  great  thing  to  be  the  first 
ambassador  from  your  country  to  the 
country  you  sprang  from.  It  is  a  mark." 

One  of  the  foreign  ambassadors  said  to 
me — 

"  You  have  been  often  in  England." 

"  Never,  but  once  in  November  and  De 
cember,  1783." 

"  You  have  relations  in  England,  no 
doubt." 

"None  at  all." 

"  None,  how  can  that  be  ?  you  are  of 
English  extraction." 

"Neither  my  father  or  mother,  grand 
father  or  grandmother,  great  grandfather 
or  great  grandmother,  nor  any  other  rela 
tion  that  I  know  of,  or  care  a  farthing  for, 
has  been  in  England  these  one  hundred 
and  fifty  years ;  so  that  you  see  I  have  not 
one  drop  of  blood  in  my  veins  but  what  is 
American." 

"  Ay,  we  have  seen  proof  enough  of 
that." 

In  the  month  of  May,  Mr.  Adams  trans 
ferred  himself  and  family  to  the  other  side 
of  the  channel,  prepared  to  undertake  the 
new  duties  to  which  he  had  been  ap 
pointed.  The  first  thing  to  be  done  was 
to  go  through  the  ceremony  of  presenta 
tion  to  the  sovereign  ;  to  stand  face  to  face 
with  the  man  whom  he  had  for  the  first 
forty  years  of  his  life  habitually  regarded 
as  his  master,  and  who  never  ceased  to 
regard  him,  and  the  rest  of  his  country 
men,  as  no  better  than  successful  rebels 


122 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


against  his  legitimate  authority.  In  his 
dispatch  to  Mr.  Jay,  then  American  secre 
tary  of  foreign  affairs,  Mr.  Adams  gave 
the  following  very  interesting  account  of 
this  meeting : — 

At  one  o'clock  on  Wednesday,  the  first 
of  June,  1785,  the  master  of  ceremonies 
called  at  my  house,  and  went  with  me  to  the 
secretary  of  state's  office,  in  Cleveland  Row, 
where  the  Marquis  of  Carmarthen  received 
and  introduced  me  to  Mr.  Frazier,  his 
under  secretary,  who  had  been,  as  his 


attended  by  the  master  of  ceremonies,  the 
room  was  very  full  of  ministers  of  state, 
bishops,  and  all  other  sorts  of  courtiers,  as 
well  as  the  next  room,  which  is  the  king's 
bed-chamber.  You  may  well  suppose  I 
was  the  focus  of  all  eyes.  I  was  relieved, 
however,  from  the  embarrassment  of  it,  by 
the  Swedish  and  Dutch  ministers,  who 
came  to  me  and  entertained  me  with  a  very 
agreeable  conversation  during  the  whole 
time.  Some  other  gentlemen,  whom  I 
had  seen  before,  came  to  make  their  com- 


KIKST  MINISTER  TO  ENGLAND.      RECEPTION  OF  JOHN  ADAMS. 


lordship  said,  uninterruptedly  in  that  office, 
through  all  the  changes  in  administration, 
for  thirty  years.  After  a  short  conversa 
tion,  Lord  Carmarthen  invited  me  to  go 
with  him  in  his  coach  to  court.  When  we 
arrived  in  the  ante-chamber,  the  master  of 
ceremonies  introduced  him,  and  attended 
me  while  the  secretary  of  state  went  to 
take  the  commands  of  the  king.  While  I 
stood  in  this  place,  where  it  seems  all  min 
isters  stand  upon  such  occasions,  always 


pliments  to  me,  until  the  Marquis  of  Car 
marthen  returned  and  desired  me  to  go  with 
him  to  his  majesty.  I  went  with  his 
lordship  through  the  levee  room  into  the 
king's  closet.  The  door  was  shut,  and  I 
was  left  with  his  majesty  and  the  secretary 
of  state  alone.  I  made  the  three  rever 
ences  :  one  at  the  door,  another  about  half 
way,  and  another  before  the  presence, 
according  to  the  usage  established  at  this 
and  all  the  northern  courts  of  Europe,  and 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


123 


then  I  addressed  mj-self  to  his  majesty  in 
the  following  words : 

"SruE:  The  United  States  have  ap 
pointed  me  minister  plenipotentiary  to 
your  majesty,  and  have  directed  me  to 
deliver  to  your  majesty  this  letter,  which 
contains  the  evidence  of  it.  It  is  in  obe 


dience  to  their  express  commands,  that  I 
have  the  honor  to  assure  your  majesty  of 
their  unanimous  disposition  and  desire  to 
cultivate  the  most  friendly  and  liberal  in 
tercourse  between  your  majesty's  subjects 
and  their  citizens,  and  of  their  best  wishes 
for  your  majesty's  health  and  happiness, 
and  for  that  of  your  family. 

The  appointment  of  a  minister  from  the 
United  States  to  your  majesty's  court  will 
form  an  epoch  in  the  history  of  England 
and  America.  I  think  myself  more  fortu 
nate  than  all  my  fellow-citizens,  in  having 
the  distinguished  honor  to  be  the  first  to 
stand  in  your  majesty's  royal  presence  in 
a  diplomatic  character,  and  I  shall  esteem 
myself  the  happiest  of  men,  if  I  can  be 
instrumental  in  recommending  my  country 
more  and  more  to  your  majesty's  royal 
benevolence,  and  of  restoring  an  entire 
esteem,  confidence,  and  affection ;  or,  in 
better  words,  '  the  old  good  nature  and  the 
good  old  humor,'  between  people  who, 
though  separated  by  an  ocean,  and  under 
different  governments,  have  the  same  lan 
guage,  a  similar  religion,  a  kindred  blood. 
I  beg  your,  majesty's  permission  to  add, 


that,  although  I  have  sometimes  before 
been  instructed  by  my  country,  it  was 
never  in  my  whole  life  in  a  manner  so 
agreeable  to  myself." 

The  king  listened  to  every  word  I  said, 
with  dignity,  it  is  true,  but  with  apparent 
emotion.  Whether  it  was  my  visible  agi 
tation,  for  I  felt  more  than  I  could  ex 
press,  that  touched  him,  I  cannot  say; 
but  he  was  much  affected,  and  answered 
me  with  more  tremor  than  I  had  spoken 
with,  and  said — 

"SiK:  The  circumstances  of  this  audi 
ence  are  so  extraordinary,  the  language 
you  have  now  held  is  so  extremely  proper, 
and  the  feelings  you  have  discovered  so 
justly  adapted  to  the  occasion,  that  I  not 
only  receive  with  pleasure  the  assurance 
of  the  friendly  disposition  of  the  United 
States,  but  I  am  glad  the  choice  has  fallen 
upon  you  to  be  their  minister.  I  wish  you, 
sir,  to  believe,  that  it  may  be  understood 
in  America,  that  I  have  done  nothing  in 
the  late  contest  but  what  I  thought  myself 
indispensably  bound  to  do,  by  the  duty 
which  I  owed  my  people.  I  will  be  frank 
with  you.  I  was  the  last  to  conform  to 
the  separation  ;  but  the  separation  having 
become  inevitable,  I  have  always  said,  as  I 
now  say,  that  I  would  be  the  first  to  meet 
the  friendship  of  the  United  States  as  an 
independent  power.  The  moment  I  see 
such  sentiments  and  language  as  yours  pre 
vail,  and  a  disposition  to  give  this  country 
the  preference,  that  moment  I  shall  say,  let 
the  circumstances  of  language,  religion, 
and  blood,  have  their  natural,  full  effect." 

The  king  then  asked  me  whether  I  came 
last  from  France;  upon  my  answering  in  the 
affirmative,  he  put  on  an  air  of  familiarity, 
and,  smiling,  or  rather  laughing,  said — 

"  There  is  an  opinion  among  some  people 
that  you  are  not  the  most  attached  of  all 
your  countrymen  to  the  manners  of 
France." 

"  That  opinion,  sir,  is  not  mistaken ;  / 
must  avow  to  your  majesty,  I  have  no  at 
tachment  but  to  my  own  country" 

The  king  replied  as  quick  as  lightning — 

" An  honest  man  will  have  no  other" 

The  king  then  said  a  word  or  two  to  the 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


secretary  of  state,  which,  being  between 
them,  I  did  not  hear,  and  then  turned 
.round  and  bowed  to  me,  as  is  customary 
•with  all  kings  and  princes  when  they  give 
the  signal  to  retire.  I  retreated,  stepping 
backwards,  as  is  the  etiquette,  and  making 
.my  last  reverence  at  the  door  of  the  chamber. 

Mr.  Adams  was  yet  to  pay  his  first 
•court  of  homage  to  the  queen.  He  was 
presented  to  her  on  the  ninth  of  June,  by 
Lord  Allesbury,  her  lord-chamberlain, — 
having  first  been  attended  to  his  lordship 
And  introduced  to  him  by  the  master  of 
the  ceremonies.  The  queen  was  accompa 
nied  by  her  ladies-in-waiting,  and  Mr. 
Adams  made  his  compliments  to  her  maj 
esty  in  the  following  words: 

"MADAM, — Among  the  many  circum 
stances  which  have  rendered  my  mission 
to  his  majesty  desirable  to  me,  I  have  ever 
considered  it  a  principal  one,  that  I  should 
have  an  opportunity  of  paying  my  court 
to  a  great  queen,  whose  royal  virtues  and 
talents  have  ever  been  acknowledged  and 
admired  in  America,  as  well  as  in  all  the 
nations  of  Europe,  as  an  example  to  prin 
cesses  and  the  glory  of  her  sex. 

Permit  me,  madam,  to  recommend  to 
your  majesty's  royal  goodness  a  rising  em 
pire  and  an  infant  virgin  world. 

Another  Europe,  madam,  is  rising  in 
America.  To  a  philosophical  mind,  like 
your  majesty's,  there  cannot  be  a  more 
pleasing  contemplation,  than  the  prospect 
of  doubling  the  human  species,  and  aug 
menting,  at  the  same  time,  their  prosperity 
and  happiness.  It  will,  in  future  ages,  be 
the  glory  of  these  kingdoms  to  have  peo 
pled  that  country,  and  to  have  sown  there 
those  seeds  of  science,  of  liberty,  of  virtue, 
and  permit  me,  madam,  to  add,  of  piety, 
which  alone  constitute  the  prosperity  of  na 
tions  and  the  happiness  of  the  human  race. 

After  venturing  upon  such  high  insinu 
ations  to  your  majesty,  it  seems  to  be  de 
scending  too  far,  to  ask,  as  I  do,  your 
majesty's  royal  indulgence  to  a  person  who 
is  indeed  unqualified  for  courts,  and  who 
owes  his  elevation  to  this  distinguished 
honor  of  standing  before  your  majesty,  not 
to  any  circumstances  of  illustrious  birth, 


fortune,  or  abilities,  but  merely  to  an 
ardent  devotion  to  his  native  country,  and 
some  little  industry  and  perseverance  in 
her  service." 

To  this  address  of  Mr.  Adams,  the 
queen  answered,  in  the  accustomed  royal 
brevity,  as  follows  : 

u  I  thank  you,  sir,  for  your  civilities  to 
me  and  my  family,  and  am  glad  to  see 
you  in  this  country.'' 

The  queen  then  asked  Mr.  Adams  if  he 
had  provided  himself  with  a  house,  to 
which  question  answer  was  made  that  he 
had  agreed  for  one  that  morning.  She 
then  made  her  courtesy,  and  the  envoy 
made  his  reverence,  retiring  at  once  into 
the  drawing-room,  where  the  king,  queen, 
princess  royal,  and  the  younger  princess, 
her  sister,  all  spoke  to  the  new  minister 
very  courteously. 

But,  notwithstanding  the  memorable 
historical  bearings  of  this  mission  of  the 
great  American  statesman,  as  first  ambas 
sador  of  the  new-born  republic,  to  his  late 
•august  sovereign, — a  mission  which  riveted 
the  attention  of  the  civilized  world, — and 
although  George  the  Third  had  submitted 
with  dignity  to  the  painful  necessity  of  such 
a  meeting,  the  embassy  was  attended  with 
no  permanently  favorable  result  either  to 
America  or  to  Mr.  Adams.  Indeed,  of  the 
many  humiliations  which  befell  the  un- 
happy  George,  perhaps  few  were  felt  so 
bitterly  as  this  almost  compulsory  inter 
view  with  the  representative  of  a  people, 
once  his  subjects,  afterwards  rebels,  and 
now  free.  Well  and  truthfully  has  the 
historian  said,  that,  in  the  conduct  of  the 
king,  on  this  occasion,  the  obvious  wisdom 
of  conciliating  the  3'oung  and  rising  nation 
on  the  western  side  of  the  Atlantic  was 
forgotten,  and  the  error  of  supercilious 
neglect  was  preferred.  Throughout  the 
whole  political  history  of  Great  Britain 
this  marked  fault  may  be  traced  in  its 
relations  with  foreign  nations,  but  it  never 
showed  itself  in  more  striking  colors  than 
during  the  first  half  century  after  the  in 
dependence  of  the  United  States.  The 
effects  of  the  mistake  then  committed  have 
been  perceptible  ever  since. 


IX. 


FIRST    ORGANIZED    REBELLION   IN  THE   UNITED 

STATES.— 1786. 


Daniel  Shays,  at  the  Head  of  an  Armed  and  Desperate  Force,  Boldly  Defies  the  State  and  Federal* 
Laws  in  Massachusetts  — "  Taxation  and  Tyranny"  the  Alleged  Grievances— Alarming  Disaffection. 
Throughout  all  New  England. — Bad  Leaders  and  Furious  Mobs. — Kout  of  the  Insurgents,  by  General 
Lincoln,  in  the  Dead  of  Winter. — Patriotic  Old  Massachusetts  in  a  Ferment. — Causes  of  Public  Dis 
content. — Total  Exhaustion  of  Credit.— Prostration  of  Trade.— Ruinous  Debts,  Heavy  Taxation. — 
Weakness  of  the  Government. — An  Excited  Populace. — Turbulence  and  Lawlessness. — All  Authority 

Spurned. — A  Bloody  Conflict  Invited — Courts  of  Justice 
Broken  Up. — Indignation  of  Washington — Heroism  on 
the  Bench  — The  National  Forces  Augmented. — Fears- 
of  a  General  Civil  War  — Unscrupulousness  of  Shays. — 
Intention  to  Seize  the  Capital. — Governor  Bowdoin's  De 
fenses. — General  Lincoln  in  Command. — Active  Move 
ment  of  His  Troops. — A  Terrible  Snow-Storm. — Hard 
ships  of  Shays's  Army. — Federal  Bayonets  Triumphant. 


SCENE   IX   SHAYS'S   REBELLION. 


"  Sirs.  I  shall  sit  here  an  a  judffe,  or  die  here  as  a  general!"—  RIPLT  or 
GENERAL  COBB,  A  ALtssACHUbETTS  JOUOK,  TO  A  SUMMONS  TO  DIKSOLVET 
HIS  COURT. 


NE  of  the  most  noteworthy  facts  in  the  history 
of  the  early  period — the  first  decade — of  the- 
American  Republic,  is,  that  in  the  state  of  Mas 
sachusetts,  the  state  which  had  been  foremost  in 
the  war  of  independence  against  Great  Britain, 
occurred  the  first  instance  of  armed  and  organ 
ized  rebellion  against  the  situation  and  conduct 
of  public  affairs  consequent  upon  the  changed  character  of  the  government  and  its 
administrators.  It  will  be  necessary,  however,  not  only  in  behalf  of  the  consistency 
of  popular  government,  but  as  vindicating  the  patriotic  old  commonwealth  in  question 
from  any  imputation  of  lawless  proclivities,  to  narrate,  first,  some  of  the  peculiar  cir 
cumstances  which  brought  distress  to  a  large  class  of  citizens,  and  provoked  political 
discontent,  finally  culminating  in  bloody  sedition. 

For  a  considerable  period  after  the  people  of  the  United  States  had  secured  peace, 
through  British  acknowledgment  of  their  independence,  was  the  exhausting  effect  felt 
by  them,  of  their  exertions  in  so  hard-fought  and  prolonged  a  contest.  The  popular 
enthusiasm,  excited  by  a  victorious  termination  of  the  struggle,  began  to  subside,  and 
the  sacrifices  of  the  revolution  soon  became  known  and  felt.  The  claims  of  those  who- 
toiled,  and  fought,  and  suffered  in  the  arduous  contest,  were  strongly  urged,  and  the 
government  had  neither  resources  nor  power  to  satisfy  or  to  silence  them.  The  wealth 


126 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1S7G. 


of  the  country  had  been  totally  exhausted 
during  the  revolution,  and,  worse  than  sill, 
the  public  credit  had  become  so  shaken 
and  prostrated  as  to  be  a  mere  by-word, 
at  home  and  abroad,  no  matter  what  might 
be  the  pledges  of  security  proffered.  Taxes 
could  not  be  collected,  because — even  if  for 
no  other  reason, — there  was  no  money  to 
represent  the  value  of  the  little  personal 
property  which  had  not  been,  and  the  land 
which  could  not  be,  destroyed ;  and  com 
merce,  though  preparing  to  burst  from  its 
thraldom,  had  not  yet  had  time  to  restore 
to  the  annual  produce  of  the  country  its  ex 
changeable  value.  The  states  owed  each  a 
heavy  debt  for  local  services  rendered 
during  the  revolution,  for  which  it  was 
bound  to  provide,  and  each  had  its  own 
domestic  government  to  support. 

The  causes  of  discontent  which  thus  ex 
isted  after  the  restoration  of  peace,  in 
every  part  of  the  Union,  were  perhaps  no 
where  more  operative  than  in  New  En 
gland,  growing  out  of  the  following  circum 
stances  :  The  great  exertions  which  had 
been  put  forth  by  those  states  in  the  course 
of  the  war,  had  accumulated  a  mass  of 
debt,  the  taxes  for  the  payment  of  which 
were  felt  as  peculiarly  burdensome,  be 
cause  the  fisheries  of  this  people  had  be 
come  so  unproductive.  This  important 
branch  of  industry,  which,  before  the  revo 
lutionary  war,  had  in  some  measure  com 
pensated  for  the  want  of  those  rich  staples 
that  were  possessed  by  the  middle  and 
southern  colonies,  had  been  unavoidably- 
neglected  during  the  struggle  for  inde 
pendence  ;  and,  as  a  consequence  of  that 
independence,  had  not  only  been  deprived 
of  the  encouragements  under  which  it  had 
flourished,  but  its  produce  was  excluded 
from  markets  which  had  formerly  been 
opened  to  it.  The  restlessness  produced 
by  the  uneasy  situation  of  individuals,  to 
gether  with  lax  notions  concerning  public 
and  private  faith,  and  erroneous  opinions, 
tended  to  confound  liberty  with  an  exemp 
tion  from  legal  control. 

This  turbulent  spirit  was  carried  out 
and  encouraged,  with  great  effect  upon  the 
minds  of  the  populace,  by  public  conven 


tions,  which,  after  voting  their  own  con 
stitutionality,  and  assuming  the  name  and 
authority  of  the  people,  arrayed  themselves 
against  the  regular  legislative  power,  and 
declared  in  the  most  exciting  language  the 
grievances  by  which  they  alleged  them 
selves  to  be  oppressed. 

Reckless  and  desperate,  a  body  of  mal 
contents  entered  the  legislative  chamber 
at  Exeter,  New  Hampshire,  and  deliber 
ately  overpowered  and  made  prisoners  the 
general  assembly  of  the  state  ;  the  citizens, 
however,  rose  and  crushed  the  movement 
in  a  few  hours. 

But  the  center  of  this  spirit  of  lawless 
violence  throughout  New  England,  culmin 
ated  in  178G,  in  the  state  of  Massachu 
setts,  where,  on  account  of  the  calamitous 
interruption  of  the  regular  trades  and  oc 
cupations,  on  land  and  sea,  a  vast  number 
of  the  male  population,  principally  young 
men,  became  impoverished,  and  were 
thrown  upon  society.  The  general  court, 
or  legislature,  of  Massachusetts,  had  found 
it  necessary  to  impose  taxes  which,  perhaps, 
in  any  case  would  have  been  ill-received, 
but  which,  in  the  existing  state  of  feeling 
and  social  disorganization,  led  to  general 
resistance  and  open  rebellion.  The  dis 
contented,  led  on  by  ambitious  and  un 
principled  leaders,  provided  themselves 
with  arms  of  every  description ;  they  had 
seen  the  country  free  itself  from  the  tyr 
anny  of  Britain  by  these  means,  and  now 
they  were  about  to  try  the  same  against, 
what  they  considered  the  tyranny  of  their 
own  government.  Things  continued  to  go 
on  in  this  way  for  some  time,  when,  the 
number  of  the  malcontents  becoming  so 
large  and  formidable,  the  militia  were 
called  out  to  protect  the  sittings  of  the 
courts,  which  it  was  the  object  of  the  in 
surgents  to  prevent ;  and  so  conciliatory 
and  considerate  was  the  government,  that 
their  grievances  were  made  the  subject  of 
repeated  and  anxious  counsel,  and  as  much 
as  possible  redressed.  Bills  were  passed 
for  diminishing  legal  costs,  law  charges 
being  at  that  time  enormous  ;  and  for  al 
lowing  the  payment  of  taxes  and  private 
debts  in  specific  articles  instead  of  coin, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


127 


of  which  latter  there  was  scarce 
ly  any  in  circulation  ;  as  well  as 
for  applying  certain   revenues, 
formerly  devoted  to  other  pur-  ""^-^^dl 
poses,  to  the  payment  of  govern-  J— 
mental  dues.     So  far  were  con-    '~=~- 
cessions  made ;  still  the  agitation  contin 
ued,  and  the  habeas  corpus  act  was  sus 
pended  for   eight  months.     Nevertheless, 
though  every  preparation  was  thus  made  to 
secure  protection  to  the  government,  full 
pardon  for  past  offenses  was  promised  to 
all,  if  they  would  cease  from  their  illegal 
agitations. 

Doubtless,  but  for  the  daring  and  des 
peration  of  one  man,  Daniel  Shays,  order 
would  have  been  restored. 

Great  anxiety  filled  the  minds  of  the 
patriotic  statesmen  throughout  the  coun 
try,  at  this  state  of  anarchy ;  and  from 
the  bosom  of  Washington,  in  especial, 
there  went  forth  utterances  of  profound 
indignation  and  alarm.  "For  God's  sake 
tell  me,"  said  he  in  a  letter  to  Colonel 
Humphreys,  "  what  is  the  cause  of  all 
these  commotions  ?  do  they  proceed  from 
licentiousness,  British  influence  dissemin 
ated  by  the  tories,  or  real  grievances 
which  admit  of  redress  ?  if  the  latter,  why 
was  redress  delayed  until  the  public  mind 
had  become  so  much  agitated  ?  if  the 


former,  why 
are  not  the 
powers  of 
government 
triedatonce? 
it  is  as  well 
to  be  with 
out,  aS  not  tO  SHAYS'8  FORCES  IX  MASSACHUSETTS. 

exercise  them.  Commotions  of  this  sort, 
like  snowballs,  gather  strength  as  they 
roll,  if  there  is  no  opposition  in  the  way  to 
divide  and  crumble  them."  Such  was 
Washington's  horror  of  this  Massachusetts 
tumult. 

Colonel  Humphreys,  while  acknowledg 
ing  his  inability  to  give  any  adequate  ex 
planation  of  the  cause  and  origin  of  the 
difficulties,  yet  gave  it  as  his  opinion  that 
they  were  attributable  to  all  the  three 
causes  which  Washington  had  suggested 
—  that,  in  Massachusetts  particularly, 
there  were  a  few  real  grievances,  and  also 
some  wicked  agents  or  emissaries  who 
made  it  their  business  to  magnify  every 
existing  evil,  and  to  foment  causeless  jeal- 


128 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


ousies  and  commotions.  Under  the  influ 
ence  of  such  examples,  it  was  plain  to  see 
that  there  had  become  prevalent  among 
many  of  the  people  a  licentious  spirit,  a 
leveling  principle,  a  desire  of  change,  and 
a  wish  to  annihilate  all  debts,  both  public 
and  private. 

The  force  of  this  party  throughout  New 
England  was  computed  at  twelve  or  fifteen 
thousand  men,  chiefly  of  the  young  and 
active  part  of  the  community,  who  were 
more  easily  collected  than  kept  together. 
Many  of  these  were  desperate  and  unprin 
cipled,  opposed  to  all  good  government  and 
legal  discipline,  and  consequently  ready, 
when  any  demagogue  should  light  the 
spark  of  violence,  to  commit  overt  acts  of 
treason  and  bring  on  a  bloody  civil  war. 
This  state  of  things  alarmed  greatly  the 
friends  of  law  and  order,  and  made  them 
firm  in  the  conviction  that  there  needed  to 
be  established,  above  all  things,  a  govern 


ment  for  the  people  of  the  United  States, 
which  should  have  the  power  to  protect 
them  in  their  lawful  pursuits,  and  which 
would  be  efficient  in  cases  of  internal 
commotions,  or  foreign  invasions,  —  a  gov 
ernment  resting  upon  liberty,  and  regu 
lated  by  laws  firmly  administered. 

The  mob  spirit  grew  more  and  more 
rampant  in  Massachusetts,  and,  in  spite 
of  the  vigilance  which  the  authorities  now 
put  forth,  generally  succeeded  in  its  demon 
strations  of  violence,  and  in  thwarting  the 
plans  of  that  faithful  and  energetic  chief 
magistrate,  Governor  Bowdoin.  In  one 


instance,  however,  at  least,  their  proceed 
ings  in  this  respect  were  summarily 
brought  to  a  stand.  This  was  in  the  town 
of  Taunton,  where  Judge  Cobb,  formerly 
an  officer  under  Washington,  and  still  one 
of  the  state-militia  generals,  was  holding 
a  court  session  at  the  time.  On  the  ar 
rival  of  the  insurgents  at  the  court-house, 
General  Cobb  promptly  confronted  them, 
and,  after  exhorting  them  to  render  that 
obedience  to  the  laws  which  is  binding 
on  every  citizen,  emphatically  declared  to 
them,  "Sirs!  I  shall  sit  here  as  a  judye, 
or  die  here  as  a  general!  "  Knowing  him 
to  be  a,  man  who  knew  his  rights  and 
wuiild  maintain  them  at  any  cost,  the  mob, 
though  more  numerous  than  the  force  that 
General  Cobb  could  summon,  concluded 
that  the  safest  course  for  them  to  pursue 
was  to  disperse. 

Ostensibly  on  account  of  the  danger 
which  threatened  the  frontiers,  but  really, 
it  would  seem,  with  a  view  to  the  sit 
uation  of  affairs  in  Massachusetts, 
congress  had  agreed  to  augment  the 
military  establishment  to  a  much 
larger  and  more  effective  standard, 
and  had  detached  the  secretary  of 
war,  General  Knox,  to  the  eastward, 
with  directions  to  concert  measures 
with  the  government  of  the  state  for 
the  safety  of  the  public  arsenals.  So 
unfavorable,  indeed,  was  the  aspect  of 
affairs,  that  fears  were  seriously  en 
tertained  that  the  torch  of  civil  dis 
cord,  about  to  be  lighted  up  in  Massa 
chusetts,  would  communicate  its  flame 
to  all  New  England,  and  perhaps  spread 
the  conflagration  throughout  the  Union. 

A  few  of  the  agitators  having,  at  length, 
been  seized  and  lodged  in  Boston  jail, — 
the  details  of  which  will  be  found  more 
particularly  narrated  on  a  subsequent  page, 
— the  exasperation  of  their  associates  was 
greatly  increased,  and  in  a  short  time  they 
organized  themselves  as  an  armed  force, 
under  the  command  of  Daniel  Shays,  Luke 
Day,  and  Eli  Parsons ;  but  some  little 
time  elapsed  before  the  state  was  fully 
prepared  to  show  its  military  power, 
though  the  riotous  interference  with  the- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


129 


courts  of  justice  was  repeatedly  enacted. 
In  the  account  of  these  proceedings  given 
by  that  excellent  and  most  reliable  histo 
rian,  Mr.  Lossing,  it  is  stated  that,  while 
the  legislature  was  in  session,  early  in 
November,  there  were  indications  that  an 
attempt  would  be  made  to  interfere  with 
the  sittings  of  the  supreme  court  about  to 
be  held  in  Middlesex  county.  General 
Brooks,  a  gallant  officer  of  the  revolution, 
in  command  of  the  militia  of  that  district, 
was  ordered  to  have  a  strong  force  in 
readiness  to  march  to  Cambridge  if  neces 
sary.  Among  those  summoned,  and  held 
in  readiness,  were  three  regiments  and 
four  artillery  companies  of  Middlesex 
county,  and  one  company  of  infantry  and 
one  of  artillery,  in  Boston.  This  formida 
ble  display  made  the  Middlesex  malcon 
tents  invisible  and  silent  at  that  time. 
Brooks  was  a  fine  officer,  and  had  showed 
himself  a  gallant  adherent  of  the  com- 
mander-in-chief  during  the  conspiracy  or 
mutiny  which  took  place  in.  Newburgh 
camp  at  the  close  of  the  revolutionary  war. 
Washington  requested  him  to  keep  his 
officers  within  quarters,  that  they  might 
not  attend  the  insurgent  meeting,  his  reply 
was — 

"  Sir,  I  have  anticipated  your  wishes, 
and  my  orders  are  given." 

"  Colonel  Brooks,  this  is  just  what  I  ex 
pected  from  you,"  was  the  reply  of  the 
chieftain,  as  he  took  the  gallant  colonel  by 
the  hand. 

The  legislature  adjourned  after  a  session 
of  six  weeks.  Their  dispersion  was  the 
signal  for  greater  activity  on  the  part  of 
the  insurgents.  They  held  several  meet 
ings  in  the  western  counties,  and  severely 
censured  the  measures  recently  adopted  by 
the  legislature.  They  resolved,  by  acclam 
ation,  to  resist  the  execution  of  the  laws 
of  the  state ;  and  everywhere,  among  un 
principled  men,  the  most  lawless  and 
alarming  spirit  was  manifested.  The  len 
iency  of  the  governor  was  called  cowardice. 
The  acts  of  the  legislature  were  denounced 
as  instruments  of  tyranny.  The  people 
were  excited  by  inflammatory  appeals. 
They  were  incited  to  acts  of  violence,  and 
9 


the  courts  of  justice  were  again  interfered 
with.  Toward  the  close  of  November,  the 
sitting  of  the  general  court  of  sessions  at 
Worcester  was  prevented  by  an  armed 
mob,  who,  taught  by  demagogues,  and  be 
lieving  that  they  owed  no  other  obedience 
to  government  but  in  so  far  as  they  might 
approve  its  measures,  declared  that  they 
had  the  right,  if  they  chose,  to  dispense 
with  all  laws  which  were  obnoxious  to 
them,  and  that  they  intended  to  set  the 
state  authorities  at  defiance.  In  Hamp 
shire  and  Middlesex  counties,  similar  bold 
demonstrations  were  made.  Governor 
Bowdoin  perceived  that  the  time  for  ar 
gument  and  persuasion  was  at  an  end,  and 
that  the  safety  of  the  commonwealth,  now 
really  in  danger,  must  be  secured  by  ener 
getic  measures.  He  accordingly  issued  a 
general  order  for  the  major-generals 
throughout  the  state  to  see  that  the  mili 
tia,  under  their  respective  commands,  were 
equipped,  and  ready  to  respond  to  any 
sudden  demand  for  their  services.  This 
order  inflamed  the  leaders  of  the  malcon 
tents  and  their  deluded  followers,  and  the 
insurrection  now  began  to  assume  the 
alarming  form  of  a  rebellion.  The  leaders, 
expecting  severe  punishment  in  the  event 
of  failure,  became  desperate,  and  were 
ready  to  employ  desperate  measures  for 
the  accomplishment  of  their  wicked 
scheme.  They  also  hoped  to  secure  a  suf 
ficient  number  of  adherents  or  defenders 
to  procure  the  governor's  pardon  in  the 
event  of  their  failure.  They  were  doomed 
to  be  disappointed. 

In  December,  a  large  number  of  the  in 
surgents  assembled  at  Concord,  expecting 
to  be  joined  by  others  from  Bristol,  Wor 
cester,  and  Hampshire  counties.  Their 
object  was  to  prevent  the  sitting  of  the 
court  at  Cambridge,  the  dictation  of  meas 
ures  to  the  governor,  and  the  suspen 
sion,  for  a  time  at  least,  of  the  usual  proc 
esses  of  law.  It  is  evident,  that,  while 
these  objects  were  acknowledged,  they  in 
tended,  if  possible,  to  seize  the  capital, 
take  possession  of  the  archives,  and  pro 
claim  a  provisional  government.  But  the 
project  failed,  and  three  of  the  leading 


130 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


traitors  of  Middlesex  soon  found  them 
selves  within  the  walls  of  a  Boston  jail. 
The  sheriff,  in  the  execution  of  his  war 
rant  for  their  arrest,  was  accompanied  by 
a  number  of  influential  gentlemen  and  a 
company  of  Boston  cavalry,  who  volun 
teered  their  services. 

Shays  and  his  followers,  desperate  but 
determined, — for  success  or  utter  ruin  was 
the  alternative  presented, — turned  their 
faces  westward,  and  marched  upon  Spring 
field  for  the  purpose  of  interfering  with 
the  sitting  of  the  court  appointed  for  the 
twenty-sixth  of  December,  and,  if  strong 
enough,  to  seize  the  continental  arsenal  at 
that  place.  They  arrived  there  on  the 
twenty-fifth,  took  possession  of  the  court 
house,  and  presented  to  the  judges  a  writ 
ten  declaration  that  the  court  should  not 
transact  business.  The  powerless  judges 
were  compelled  to  submit. 

Finding  that  the  lenient  measures  which 
had  thus  far  been  taken  by  the  legislature 
to  subdue  the  violence  of  the  insurgents 
only  enlarged  their  demands, —  that  the 
pardon  proffered  to  those  who  would  re 
turn  to  their  duty  was  rejected  with  scorn, 
— that  the  conciliating  efforts  of  govern 
ment  only  increased  their  audacity, — and 
that  they  were  proceeding  with  more  and 
more  energy  to  marshal  their  military 
forces  for  an  aggressive  movement, — Gov 
ernor  Bowdoin,  who  had  probably  been 
restrained  by  the  temper  of  the  house  of 
representatives  from  an  earlier  resort  to 
the  final  extremity,  at  length  determined, 
with  the  advice  of  council,  on  a  vigorous 
exertion  of  all  the  powers  he  possessed, 
for  the  protection  and  defense  of  the  com 
monwealth.  Upwards  of  four  thousand 
militia  were  ordered  into  service,  and  were 
placed  under  the  command  of  the  veteran 
General  Lincoln,  whose  gallant  military 
reputation,  and  well-balanced  judgment, 
rendered  him  doubly  capacitated  for  so 
critical  and  important  a  trust. 

It  was  in  the  depth  of  an  unusually  se 
vere  winter,  and  which  caused  bitter  suf 
fering,  that  the  troops  thus  raised  in  the 
eastern  part  of  the  state  assembled  near 
Boston,  and  marched  towards  the  scene  of 


action.  Those  from  the  western  counties 
met  in  arms  under  General  Shepard,  an 
officer  who  had  served  with  honor  during 
the  war  of  the  revolution,  and  took  close 
possession  of  the  federal  arsenal  at  Spring 


field.  Before  the  arrival  of  Lincoln,  a  party 
of  the  insurgents  presented  themselves 
before  the  arsenal  and  demanded  its  sur 
render.  Attempting  to  carry  out  their 
demand,  General  Shepard,  after  warning 
and  entreating  them  to  retire,  fired  upon 
them.  The  first  discharge  was  over  their 
heads  ;  they  took  no  notice  of  it.  The  sec 
ond  was  into  the  ranks ;  a  cry  of  "  Mur 
der!"  arose,  and  all  fled  in  confusion, 
leaving  three  men  dead  on  the  field  and 
one  wounded.  Urging  his  march  with  the 
utmost  celerity,  Lincoln  soon  came  up,  and 
pressing  the  insurgent  army,  endeavored 
by  a  succession  of  rapid  movements,  in 
which  the  ardor  of  his  troops  triumphed 
over  the  extreme  severity  of  the  season,  to 
disperse  or  bring  it  to  action.  But  the 
insurgents  fled  to  Pelham,  where  they 
posted  themselves  upon  two  hills,  rendered 
almost  inaccessible  by  the  great  fall  of 
snow.  They  used  all  their  address  to  pro 
duce  a  suspension  of  hostilities  until  an 
accommodation  might  be  negotiated  with 
the  legislature, — believing,  as  they  did, 
that,  if  they  could  keep  up  their  influence 
until  another  choice  of  legislature  and  gov 
ernor  came  around,  matters  might  be 
molded  to  their  liking.  Shays  now  of 
fered  to  lay  down  his  arms  on  condition  of 
general  pardon,  which  Lincoln,  however, 
was  not  empowered  to  grant.  At  length, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


131 


sorely  pressed  for  food,  a  sudden  retreat 
was  made  to  Petersham.  Discovering 
this,  Lincoln  set  off  at  six  in  the  evening, 
and  marching  all  night,  forty  miles, 
through  intense  cold  and  a  driving  storm, 


reached  Petersham  by  daybreak,  to  the 
astonishment  of  the  rebels,  who  had  not 
the  least  idea  of  this  movement,  and  ac 
cordingly  fled  in  dismay  or  were  taken 
prisoners. 


X. 


FORMATION  AND  ADOPTION  OF  THE  FEDERAL  CONSTI 
TUTION.— 1787. 


The  United  States  no  Longer  a  People  Without  a  Government — Establishment  of  the  Republic  on  a 
Permanent  Foundation  of  Unity,  Organic  Law  and  National  Polity. — Dignity,  Learning,  and  Elo 
quence  of  the  Delegates — Sublime  Scene  on  Signing  the  Instrument. — Extraordinary  Character  of 
the  Whole  Transaction. — State  of  Things  After  the  War — Financial  Embarrassment  — Despondency 
of  the  People. — Grave  Crisis  in  Public  AITiiirs. — A  Grand  Movement  Initiated — Plan  of  Government 
to  be  Framed. — All  the  States  in  Convention  — Washington  Chosen  to  Preside. — Statesmen  and  Sages 
in  Council. — The  Old  Compact  Abrogated. — New  Basis  of  Union  Proposed. — Various  Schemes  Dis 
cussed. — Jealousy  of  the  Smaller  States. — Angry  Debates,  Sectional  Threats — Bad  Prospects  of  the 
Convention. — Its  Dissolution  Imminent — Franklin's  Impressive  Appeal. — Compromise  and  Concilia 
tion. — Final  System  Agreed  Upon. — Patriotism  Ilules  all  Hearts. — Ratification  by  the  States. — Na 
tional  Joy  at  the  Decision. 


"  Should  the  ttates  reject  this  excellent  Constitution,  the  prolnbility  is  that  nn  opportunity  will  never  njiin  be  offered  to  cancel  another  in 
pe»cc— the  next  will  be  drawn  m  blood." — KKMACK  or  WASIII.NOTON  ox  Sioxixo  THE  COKSTITUTIOX. 


ENnOLLIXQ  THE  CONSTITUTION. 


HOUGH  the  close  of  the 
war  of  i  11  (1  c  p  c  n  d  c  n  c  e 
resulted  in  the  establish 
ment  of  a  free  national 
ity,  it  nevertheless 
brought  anxious  solici 
tude  to  every  patriot's 
mind,  and  this  state  of 
apprehension  and  disqui 
etude  increased  with  each 
succeeding  year.  The 
state  debts  which  had 
been  incurred  in  anticipation  of  prosperous  times,  operated  severely,  after  a  while,  on 
all  classes  in  the  community;  to  meet  the  payment  of  these  debts,  at  maturity,  was 
impossible,  and  every  relief-act  only  added  to  the  difficulty.  This,  and  kindred 
troubles,  financial  and  governmental,  impressed  the  people  with  the  gloomy  conviction 
that  the  great  work  of  independence,  as  contemplated  in  the  revolutionary  struggle, 
was  only  half  done.  It  was  felt  that,  above  all  things,  a  definite  and  organic  form 
of  government — reflecting  the  will  of  the  people — should  be  fixed  upon,  to  give  energy 
to  national  power,  and  success  to  individual  and  public  enterprise.  So  portentous  a 
crisis  as  this  formed  another  epoch  for  the  display  of  the  intellectual  and  political 
attainments  of  American  statesmen,  and  the  ordeal  was  one  through  which  they  passed 
with  the  highest  honor,  and  with  ever-enduring  fame,  at  home  and  abroad.  New  men 
appeared  on  the  stage  of  legislative  council  and  action,  and  it  was  found  that  the  quan- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


133 


tity  of  talent  and  information  necessary  in 
the  formation  period  of  a  new  republic 
had  greatly  increased  in  the  various  states. 
But,  in  especial,  the  great  minds  that 
achieved  the  revolution  beheld  with  deep 
concern  their  country  impoverished  and 
distracted  at  home,  and  of  no  considera 
tion  among  the  family  of  nations. 

A  change  was  now  to  be  wrought,  the 
grandeur  of  which  would  be  acknowledged 
throughout  all  lands,  and  its  importance 
reach  forward  to  the  setting  of  the  sun  of 
time.  The  same  hall  which  had  resounded 
with  words  of  patriotic  defiance  that  shook 
the  throne  of  King  George  and  proclaimed 
to  an  astonished  world  the  Declaration  of 
Independence, — that  same  hall  in  which 
congress  had  continued  to  sit  during  the 
greater  part  of  the  momentous  period  in 
tervening, — in  the  state  house  at  Phila 
delphia,  was  soon  to  witness  the  assem 
bling  of  such  a  body  of  men  as,  in  point  of 
intellectual  talent,  personal  integrity,  and 
lofty  purpose,  had  perhaps  never  before 
been  brought  together.  The  curious  stu 
dent  of  this  page  in  modern  history  has 
sometimes  plausibly  but  speciously  attrib 
uted  to  mere  chance — instead  of  to  that 
Providence  which  rules  in  the  affairs  of 
men — this  timely  and  grand  event.  Thus, 
General  Washington,  having  contemplated 
with  great  interest  a  plan  for  uniting  the 
Potomac  and  the  Ohio  rivers,  and  by  this 
means  connecting  the  eastern  and  western 
waters,  made  a  journey  of  six  hundred  and 
eighty  miles  on  horseback,  taking  minute 
notes  of  everything  which  could  be  subserv 
ient  to  this  project.  His  influence,  and 
the  real  importance  of  the  design,  induced 
the  legislatures  of  Virginia  and  Maryland 
to  send  commissioners  to  Alexandria  to 
deliberate  on  the  subject.  They  met  in 
March,  1785,  and  having  spent  some  time 
at  Mount  Vernon,  determined  to  recom 
mend  another  commission,  which  might 
establish  a  general  tariff  on  imports.  The 
Virginia  legislature  not  only  agreed,  but 
invited  the  other  states  to  send  deputies 
to  meet  at  Annapolis.  In  September, 
1786,  they  had  arrived  from  five  only,  and 
with  too  limited  powers.  A  number  of 


able  statesmen,  however,  were  thus  assem 
bled,  who,  feeling  deeply  the  depressed 
and  distracted  state  of  the  country,  became 
sensible  that  something  on  a  much  greater 
scale  was  necessary  to  raise  her  to  pros 
perity,  and  give  her  a  due  place  among 
the  nations.  They  therefore  drew  up  a 
report  and  address  to  all  the  states, 
strongly  representing  the  inefficiency  of 
the  present  federal  government,  and  earn 
estly  urging  them  to  send  delegates  to 
meet  at  Philadelphia  in  May,  1787.  Con 
gress  responded  to  this  proceeding  in  Feb 
ruary,  by  the  passage  of  resolutions  rec 
ommending  the  proposed  measure, — but  of 
which,  perhaps,  they  did  not  then  contem 
plate  all  the  momentous  results. 

On  the  day  appointed  for  the  meeting 
of  the  convention,  May  fourteenth,  1787, 
only  a  small  number  of  the  delegates  had 
arrived  in  Philadelphia.  The  delibera 
tions  did  not  commence,  therefore,  until 
May  twenty-fifth,  when  there  were  pres 
ent  twenty-nine  members,  representing 
nine  states.  Others  soon  after  came  in, 
till  the  whole  number  amounted  to  fifty- 
five.  Never,  perhaps,  had  any  body  of 
men  combined  for  so  great  a  purpose — to 
form  a  constitution  which  was  to  rule  so 
numerous  a  people,  and  probably  during 
so  many  generations.  The  members,  con 
sisting  of  the  very  ablest  men  in  America, 
were  not  unworthy  of,  nor  unequal  to,  so 
high  a  trust. 

Towering  above  all  these  men  of  might, 
in  his  world-wide  fame  and  in  the  genius 
of  his  personal  ascendency,  was  Washing 
ton,  intrusted  by  the  commonwealth  of 
Virginia  with  the  work  of  cementing  to 
gether  the  sisterhood  of  states  in  one  in 
dissoluble  bond  of  mutual  interest,  co-ope 
ration,  and  renown.  And  there  was  Rufus 
King,  from  Massachusetts,  young  in  years, 
but  mature  in  wisdom  and  brilliant  in  ora 
tory;  Langdon,  from  New  Hampshire, 
strong  in  his  understanding  and  readily 
mastering  the  most  intricate  details  ;  El- 
bridge  Gerry,  of  Massachusetts,  exhibiting 
the  utmost  zeal  and  fidelity  in  the  per 
formance  of  his  official  duties;  Caleb 
Strong,  from  the  same  state,  plain  in  his 


134 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


CONVENTION  AT  PHILADELPHIA,   1787. 


appearance,  but  calm,  firm,  intelligent,  and 
well-balanced ;  Ellsworth,  from  Connecti 
cut,  elegant  in  his  manners,  and  distin 
guished  for  his  energy  of  mind,  clear 
reasoning  powers,  and  effective  eloquence; 
Sherman,  his  colleague,  a  statesman  and 
jurist  whose  fame  has  extended  far  beyond 
the  western  world ;  Hamilton,  from  New 
York,  spare  and  fragile  in  person,  but 
keen,  active,  laborious,  transcendent  in 
his  abilities  and  of  unsullied  integrity; 
Livingston,  from  New  Jersey,  of  scholarly 
tastes,  uncompromisingly  republican  in  his 
politics,  and  fearless  in  the  expression  of 
his  opinions;  Franklin,  from  Pennsylvania, 
one  of  the  profopndest  philosophers  in  the 
world,  and,  though  now  rising  of  four 
score  years,  capable  of  grasping  and  throw 
ing  light  upon  the  most  recondite  ques 
tions  relating  to  the  science  of  govern 
ment  ;  Robert  Morris,  from  Pennsylvania, 
the  great  financier,  of  whom  it  has  been 
said,  and  with  much  truth,  that  'the 
Americans  owed,  and  still  owe,  as  much 
acknowledgment  to  the  financial  operations 
of  Robert  Morris,  as  to  the  negotiations  of 


Benjamin  Franklin,  or  even  to  the  arms 
of  George  Washington ; '  Gouverneur 
Morris,  from  the  same  state,  conspicuous 
for  his  accomplishments  in  learning,  his 
fluent  conversation,  and  sterling  abilities 
in  debate ;  Clymer,  distinguished  among 
the  sons  of  Pennsylvania,  as  one  of  the 
first  to  raise  a  defiant  voice  against  the 
arbitrary  acts  of  the  mother  country ; 
Mifflin,  another  delegate  from  the  land  of 
Penn,  ardent  almost  beyond  discretion,  in 
zeal  for  his  country's  rights  and  liberties; 
Dickinson,  from  New  Jersey,  a  patriot, 
who,  though  the  only  member  of  the  con 
tinental  congress  opposed  to  the  Declara 
tion  of  Independence,  on  the  ground  of  its 
being  premature,  was  nevertheless  the  only 
member  of  that  body  who  immediately 
shouldered  his  musket  and  went  forth  to 
face  the  enemy ;  "\Vythe,  from  Virginia, 
wise,  grave,  deeply  versed  in  the  law,  and 
undaunted  in  the  defense  of  liberty  for  the 
the  people;  Madison,  also  from  Virginia, 
talented,  thoughtful,  penetrating,  one  of 
the  brightest  ornaments  of  his  state  and 
nation;  Martin,  from  Maryland,  a  jurist 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


135 


of  vast  attainments  and  commanding 
powers ;  Davie,  from  North  Carolina,  of 
splendid  physique,  one  of  the  master-minds 
of  the  country ;  Rutledge,  from  South  Car 
olina-,  pronounced  by  Washington  to  be 
the  finest  orator  in  the  continental  con 
gress  ;  Pinckney,  from  the  same  state, 
a  soldier  and  lawyer  of  unrivaled  abili 
ties; — and  thus  the  record  might  go  on, 
until  it  embraced  all  the  names  of  this 
eminent  assemblage  of  America's  nrblest 
patriots  and  most  illustrious  historic  char 
acters,  "  all,  all,  honorable  men." 

On  proceeding  with  the  organization  of 
the  convention,  George  Washington  was 
nominated  by  Robert  Morris  to  preside 
over  its  deliberations,  and  was  unanimously 
elected.  The  standing  rules  were  then 
adopted,  one  of  these  being  that  nothing 
spoken  in  the  house  be  printed  or  other 
wise  published,  or  made  known  in  any 
manner,  without  special  permission.  And 
in  this  connection,  the  following  little  epi 
sode,  which  has  come  to  light,  will  doubt 
less  be  read  as  a  refreshing  reminiscence 
of  the  "  secret "  doings  among  those  grave 
old  worthies : 

One  of  the  members  of  the  Georgia  del 
egation  was  Mr.  ,  a  gentleman,  the 

zeal  of  whose  legislative  mind  and  efforts 
sometimes  quite  ate  up  his  attention  to 
mere  extraneous  matters.  Like  all  the 
rest  of  his  associates  in  the  assembly,  he 
had  been  furnished  with  a  schedule  of  the 
principal  points  of  debate,  or  subjects  of 
consideration,  which  were  to  be  brought 
before  the  convention  as  constituting  its 
business,  and,  in  accordance  with  the  par 
liamentary  usage  of  secrecy,  this  pro 
gramme  of  the  convention's  duties  and 
deliberations  was  with  especial  care  to  be 
kept  from  disclosure  during  the  period  of 
its  sittings.  It  happened,  however,  that 
one  of  the  delegates  unfortunately  lost  his 
copy  of  this  official  schedule  or  orders  of 
the  day.  General  Mitflin,  one  of  the  del 
egates  from  Pennsylvania,  by  good  chance 
discovered  the  stray  document,  and,  ex 
plaining  the  circumstances  to  Washing 
ton,  placed  it  in  the  latter's  hands,  who, 
in  silence  and  gravity,  deposited  it  among 


his  own  papers.  At  the  close  of  that  day's 
proceedings,  and  just  previously  to  the 
convention's  rising,  Washington,  as  pre 
siding  officer,  called  the  attention  of  the 
assembly  to  the  matter  in  question,  in  the 
following  characteristic  remarks : 

"  Gentlemen,  I  am  sorry  to  find  that 
some  one  member  of  this  body  has  been  so 
neglectful  of  the  secrets  of  this  convention, 
as  to  drop  in  the  state  house  a  copy  of 
their  proceedings — which,  by  accident,  was 
picked  up  and  delivered  to  me  this  morn 
ing.  I  must  entreat  gentlemen  to  be 
more  careful,  lest  our  transactions  get  into 
the  newspapers,  and  disturb  the  public 
repose  by  premature  speculations.  I  know 
not  whose  paper  it  is,  but  there  it  is 
(throwing  it  down  on  the  table)  ;  let  him 
who  owns  it  take  it." 

But  to  proceed  with  the  historical 
sketch  of  this  most  august  body  of  modern 
legislators. 

They  had  been  appointed  merely  with  a 
view  to  the  revision  or  improvement  of  the 
old  articles  of  confederation,  which  still 
held  them  precariously  together  as  a  na 
tion;  yet  they  had  not  deliberated  long, 
when  they  determined  that  the  existing 
compact  or  system  of  government  must  be 
swept  away.  The  question,  however,  as  to 
what  should  be  substituted  in  its  place,  was 
one  of  extreme  difficulty.  Mr.  Randolph,  of 
Virginia,  opened  the  great  discussion  by  a 
speech  in  which  he  laid  bare  the  defects  of 
the  confederation,  and  then  submitted  a 
series  of  resolutions  embodying  the  sub 
stance  of  a  plan  of  government — the  same, 
in  character,  as  that  contained  in  letters 
written  by  Mr.  Madison  to  Mr.  Jefferson, 
Mr.  Randolph,  and  General  Washington, 
a  few  months  previous. 

The  plan  in  question  proposed  the  form 
ation  of  a  general  government,  consti 
tuted  as  follows :  The  national  legislature 
to  consist  of  two  branches — the  members 
of  the  first  branch  to  be  elected  by  the 
people  of  the  several  states,  and  the 
members  of  the  second  branch  to  be  elected 
by  the  first  branch,  out  of  a  proper  number 
nominated  by  the  state  legislatures;  the 
national  legislature  to  have  a  negative  on 


136 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1S7G. 


all  the  state  laws  contravening  the  articles 
of  union,  and  to  have  power  to  legislate  in 
all  cases  where  the  states  were  incompe 
tent ;  the  right  of  suffrage  in  the  legisla 
ture  to  he  proportioned  to  the  quota  of 
contribution,  or  to  the  number  of  free  in 
habitants ;  a  national  executive  to  be 
chosen  by  the  national  legislature ;  a  na 
tional  judiciary,  to  consist  of  one  or  more 
supreme  tribunals  and  inferior  ones,  the 
judges  to  be  chosen  by  the  national  legis 
lature;  the  executive,  and  a  convenient 
number  of  the  national  judiciary,  to  com- 


FH A) NKLIX   PLEADING  FOR  PACIFICATION. 


pose  a  council  of  revision  to  examine  every 
act  of  the  national  legislature  before  it 
should  operate,  and  every  act  of  a  particu 
lar  legislature  before  a  negative  thereon 
should  be  final ;  provision  to  be  made  for 
the  admission  of  new  states  to  the  Union ; 
a  republican  form  of  government  to  be 
administered  in  each  state;  provision  to 
be  made  for  amendments  to  the  articles  of 
union  ;  the  legislative,  executive,  and  judi 
ciary  powers,  or  officials,  of  the  several 
states,  to  be  bound  by  oath  to  support  the 
articles  of  union. 


A  good  degree  of  favor  was  shown  to 
Mr.  Randolph's  plan,  but  not  sufficient  to 
prevent  other  projects,  conspicuous  among 
these  being  one  by  Mr.  Patterson,  of  New 
Jersey,  and  another  by  Alexander  Hamil 
ton,  from  being  brought  forward  and  urged 
by  their  respective  friends, — all  of  these 
being  republican  in  their  general  features, 
but  differing  in  their  details. 

For  some  days,  angry  debates  occurred 
which,  but  for  the  timely  and  healing 
wisdom  of  Dr.  Franldin,  the  Mentor  of 
the  convention,  would  have  ended  in  the 
breaking  up  of  the  body.  As  soon 
as  there  was  an  opening  for  him  to 
speak,  the  doctor  rose,  and  in  a  most 
impressive  manner,  said,  among 
other  things  : 

"  It  is  to  be  feared  that  the  mem 
bers  of  this  convention  are  not  in  a 
temper,  at  this  moment,  to  approach 
the  subject  on  which  we  differ,  in 
a  candid  spirit.  I  would  therefore 
propose,  Mr.  President,  that,  without 
proceeding  further  in  this  business 
at  this  time,  the  convention  shall 
adjourn  for  three  days,  in  order  to  let 
the  present  ferment  pass  off,  and  to 
afford  time  for  a  more  full,  free,  and 
dispassionate  investigation  of  the 
subject;  and  I  would  earnestly  rec 
ommend  to  the  members  of  this  con 
vention,  that  they  spend  the  time  of 
this  recess,  not  in  associating  with 
their  own  party,  and  devising  new 
arguments  to  fortify  themselves  in 
their  old  opinions,  but  that  they  mix 
with  members  of  opposite  senti 
ments,  lend  a  pafient  ear  to  their  reason 
ings,  and  candidly  allow  them  all  the 
weight  to  which  they  may  be  entitled  ; 
and  when  we  assemble  again,  I  hope  it  will 
be  with  a  determination  to  form  a  consti 
tution;  if  not  such  an  one  as  we  can  indi 
vidually,  and  in  all  respects,  approve,  yet 
the  best  which,  under  existing  circum* 
stances,  can  be  obtained."  (Here  the 
countenance  of  Washington  brightened, 
and  a  cheering  ray  seemed  to  break  in 
upon  the  gloom  of  the  assembly.)  The 
doctor  continued: 


GEE  AT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


137 


"  Before  I  sit  down,  Mr.  President,  I 
will  suggest  another  matter;  and  I  am 
really  surprised  that  it  has  not  been  pro 
posed  by  some  other  member,  at  an  earlier 
period  of  our  deliberations.  I  will  sug 
gest,  Mr.  President,  the  propriety  of  nom 
inating  and  appointing,  before  we  separate, 
a  chaplain  to  this  convention,  whose  duty 
it  shall  be  uniformly  to  assemble  with  us, 
and  introduce  the  business  of  each  day  by 
imploring  the  assistance  of  Heaven,  and 
its  blessing  upon  our  deliberations." 

The  doctor  sat  down,  and  never  did  a 
countenance  appear  at  once  so  dignified 
and  so  delighted  as  that  of  Washington, 
at  the  close  of  this  address.  The  motion 
for  appointing  a  chaplain  was  instantly 
seconded  and  carried.  The  convention 
also  chose  a  committee,  by  ballot,  consist 
ing  of  one  from  each  state,  to  sit  during  the 
recess,  and  then  adjourned  for  three  days. 

The  three  days  were  spent  in  the 
manner  advised  by  Doctor  Franklin.  On 
re-assembling,  the  chaplain  appeared  and 
led  the  devotions  of  the  assembly,  and  the 
minutes  of  the  last  sitting  were  read.  All 
eyes  were  now  turned  to  the  venerable 
doctor.  He  rose,  and  in  a  few  words 
stated,  that  during  the  recess  he  had  list 
ened  attentively  to  all  the  arguments,  pro 
and  con,  which  had  been  urged  by  both 
sides  of  the  house;  that  he  had  himself 
said  much,  and  thought  more,  on  the  sub 
ject  ;  he  saw  difficulties  and  objections, 
which  might  be  urged  by  individual  states, 
against  every  scheme  which  had  been  pro 
posed  ;  and  he  was  now,  more  than  ever, 
convinced  that  the  constitution  which  they 
were  about  to  form,  in  order  to  be  just  and 
equal,  must  be  formed  on  the  basis  of 
compromise  and  mutual  concession.  With 
such  views  and  feelings,  he  would  now 
move  a  reconsideration  of  the  vote  last 
taken  on  the  organization  of  the  senate. 
The  motion  was  seconded,  the  vote  carried, 
the  former  vote  rescinded,  and  by  a  suc 
cessive  motion  and  resolution,  the  senate 
was  organized  on  the  present  plan. 

On  the  seventeenth  of  September,  the 
final  debate  closed,  the  last  amendment  was 
adopted,  and  the  result  of  the  convention's 


labors  was  the  formation  of  a  constitution 
establishing  a  national  government  on  the 
following  prescribed  principles :  That  the 
affairs  of  the  people  of  the  United  States 
were  thenceforth  to  be  administered,  not 
by  a  confederacy,  or  mere  league  of  friend 
ship  between  the  sovereign  states,  but  by 
a  government,  distributed  into  the  three 
great  departments  —  legislative,  judicial, 
and  executive ;  that  the  powers  of  govern 
ment  should  be  limited  to  concerns  per 
taining  to  the  whole  people,  leaving  the 
internal  administration  of  each  state,  in 
time  of  peace,  to  its  own  constitution  and 
laws,  provided  that  they  should  be  repub 
lican,  and  interfering  with  them  as  little 
as  possible  in  case  of  war ;  that  the  legis 
lative  power  of  this  government  should  be 
divided  between  the  two  assemblies,  one 
representing  directly  the  people  of  the 
separate  states,  and  the  other  their  legisla 
tures  ;  that  the  executive  power  of  this 
government  should  be  vested  in  one  person 
chosen  for  four  years,  with  certain  quali 
fications  of  age  and  nativity,  and  invested 
with  a  qualified  negative  upon  the  enact 
ment  of  the  laws;  and  that  the  judicial 
power  should  consist  of  tribunals  inferior 
and  supreme,  to  be  instituted  and  organ 
ized  by  congress,  the  judges  removable 
only  by  impeachment. 

Thus,  finally  amended,  the  constitution 
was  signed  by  all  the  members  present, 
except  by  Messrs.  Randolph  and  Mason,  of 
Virginia,  and  Gerry,  of  Massachusetts. 
The  scene  is  described  as  one  of  historic 
solemnity,  rising  almost  to  the  sublime. 
When  Washington,  whose  turn  came  first, 
was  about  to  sign  the  instrument  ordained 
to  be  henceforth — if  ratified  by  the  several 
states — the  palladium  of  his  country's  na 
tional  existence,  and  the  formation  of 
which  he  had  watched  over  with  such 
anxious  solicitude,  he  rose  from  his  seat, 
and  holding  the  pen  in  his  hand,  after  a 
short  pause,  pronounced  these  words  : 

"  Should  the  states  reject  this  excellent 
Constitution,  the  probability  is  that  an  op 
portunity  will  never  again  be  offered  to 
cancel  another  in  peace — the  next  will  be 
drawn  in  blood." 


138 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


And  when,  following  the  example  of 
their  illustrious  leader,  the  other  members 
of  the  convention  appended  their  signa 
tures,  Doctor  Franklin,  with  his  eye  fixed 
upon  the  presiding  officer's  seat,  in  the 
rear  of  which  was  the  picture  of  a  halo  or 
sun,  made  the  characteristic  remark : 

"  I  have  often  and  often,  in  the  course 
of  the  session,  and  in  the  vicissitudes  of 
my  hopes  and  fears  as  to  its  issue,  looked 
at  that  sun  behind  the  president,  without 
being  able  to  tell  whether  it  was  rising  or 
sinking;  at  length  I  have  the  happiness 
to  know  it  is  a  rising  and  not  a  setting 
sun." 

The  convention,  however,  which  framed 
the  constitution,  was  not  clothed  with  leg 
islative  power,  nor  was  the  congress  of  the 
confederation  competent  to  accept  it  or 
reject  the  new  form  of  government.  It 
was  referred  by  them  to  the  several  states, 


represented  by  conventions  of  the  people  ; 
and  it  was  provided  in  the  instrument  it 
self,  that  it  should  become  the  supreme 
law  of  the  land,  when  adopted  by  nine 
states.  It  was  not  till  the  summer  of 
1788  that  the  ratification  of  nine  states 
was  obtained,  beginning  with  Delaware, 
some  by  large,  and  some  by  very  small 
majorities.  The  violence  of  the  opposition 
party  was  in  some  sections  very  great,  re 
sulting,  in  New  York,  in  tumultuous  riots. 
Of  the  thirteen  original  states,  Rhode 
Island  was  the  last  to  accept  the  constitu 
tion,  which  she  did  in  May,  1790. 

The  year  of  suspense,  while  the  Ameri 
can  people  were  debating  the  great  question 
whether  to  accept  or  reject  the  constitu 
tion  offered  them  by  Washington  and  his 
associate  compatriots,  was,  on  the  an 
nouncement  of  the  result,  succeeded  by  a 
national  jubilee. 


XI. 


FIRST  ELECTION  AND  INAUGURATION  OF  A  PRESIDENT 
OF  THE  UNITED  STATES.— 1789. 


Washington,  "  First  in  War,  First  in  Peace,  and  First  in  the  Hearts  of  his  Countrymen,"  the  Nation's 
Spontaneous,  Unanimous  Choice  — His  Triumphal  Progress  from  Home,  and  Solemn  Induction  into 
Office — Jubilee  throughout  the  Republic,  over  the  August  Event. — Auspicious  Commencement  of 
the  National  Executive  Government  — Requirements  of  the  Constitution  — A  Piesident  to  be  Chosen. 
— Four  Years  the  Term  of  Service. — All  Eyes  Fixed  Upon  Washington. — His  Reluctance  to  Accept. 
— Reasons  Given  for  this  Course. — Urgent  Appeals  to  Him. — The  Result  of  the  Election  —  One 
Voice  and  One  Mind  — He  Bows  to  the  People's  Will. — Joy  Produced  by  Ilis  Decision. — Departs  at 
Once  from  Mount  Vernon. — Farewell  Visits  to  His  Mother. —  Inauguration  Appointed  for  March 
Fourth. — Postponement  to  April  Thirtieth. — Order  of  Ceremonies — New  Spectacle  in  the  Western 
World. — Distinguished  Celebrities  Present. — Washington's  Elegant  Appearance. — Dignity  when 
Taking  the  Oath. — Reverentially  Kisses  the  Bible. — Curious  Customs  Initiated. 


"Where  shall  the  eye  reit,  weary  of  gazing  on  the  great, 
where  find  a  glory  that  is  not  criminal  a  pomp  that  is  not  con 
temptible?  Yes,  there  is  a  man,  the  first,  the  last,  the  best  of 
all,  the  Cincinnatus  of  the  West,  whom  envy  itself  does  not 
hate.  The  name  of  Washington  is  bequeathed  to  us  to  make 
humanity  blush  that  such  a  man  is  alone  in  history  "—LORD 
BYRON. 


CCOKDII^G  to  the  terms  of  the  new 
federal  constitution,  which  had  now 
been  assented  to  and  ratified  by  the 

INAUGURATION  BIBLE.  requisite  number  of  states,  a  President 

of  the  United  States  was  required  to  be  elected  for  a  term  of  four  years ;  and,  amidst 
all  the  discordances  of  political  opinion  respecting  the  merits  of  the  constitution  itself, 
there  was  but  one  sentiment  throughout  the  country  as  to  the  man  who  should  admin 
ister  the  affairs  of  the  government.  All  eyes  were  directed  to  WASHINGTON,  and  at  an 
early  period  his  correspondents  endeavored  to  prepare  his  mind  to  gratify  the  expecta 
tions  of  the  people.  Mr.  Johnson,  a  distinguished  patriot  of  Maryland,  wrote  him, 
"We  can  not  do  without  you."  Indeed,  he  alone  was  believed  to  fill  so  pre-eminent  a 
place  in  the  public  esteem,  that  he  might  be  called  to  the  head  of  the  nation  without 
exciting  envy ;  and  he  alone  possessed  in  so  unlimited  a  degree  the  confidence  of  the 
masses,  that,  under  his  auspices,  the  friends  of  the  new  political  system  might  hope  to 
see  it  introduced  with  a  degree  of  firmness  Avhich  would  enable  it  to  resist  the  open 
assaults  and  secret  plots  of  its  many  enemies. 

By  almost  all  who  were  on  terms  of  intimacy  with  Washington,  fears  were  enter 
tained  that  his  earnest  desire  for  private  life  and  the  improvement  of  his  vast  and  long- 
neglected  plantations,  would  prevail  over  the  wishes  of  the  public,— an  acquiescence 
in  which  wishes  was  believed  to  be  absolutely  essential  to  the  completion  of  that  great 
work,  the  Constitution,  on  which  the  grandeur  and  happiness  of  America  was  deemed  to 


140 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


depend.  The  struggle,  on  his  part,  be 
tween  inclination  and  duty,  was  long  and 
severe,  as  is  evident  by  the  letters  which  he 
wrote  on  the  subject,  in  response  to  the  ap 
peals  and  importunities  constantly  made  by 
his  friends.  Colonel  Lee,  then  a  distin 
guished  member  of  congress,  communicat 
ing  to  Washington  the  measures  which  that 
body  were  adopting  to  introduce  the  govern 
ment  just  ordained,  thus  alludes  to  the 
presidency :  "  Without  you,  the  govern 
ment  can  have  but  little  chance  of  success  ; 
and  the  people,  of  that  happiness  which 
its  prosperity  must  yield."  So,  also,  Mr. 
Gouverneur  Morris,  a  patriot  who  had  been 
one  of  the  most  valuable  members  of  con 
gress  during  a  great  part  of  the  war,  and 
who  had  performed  a  splendid  part  in  the 
general  convention,  wrote:  "I  have  ever 
thought,  and  have  ever  said  that  you  must 
be  the  president ;  no  other  man  can  fill 
that  office."  Thft  great  Hamilton  likewise 
urged  him  to  accept  the  office,  and  thus 
yield  to  the  general  call  of  the  country  in 
relation  to  its  new  and  untried  govern 
ment.  "  You  will  permit  me  to  say," 
wrote  Hamilton,  "  that  it  is  indispensable 
you  should  lend  yourself  to  its  first  opera 
tions.  It  is  to  little  purpose  to  have  in 
troduced  a  system,  if  the  weightiest  influ 
ence  is  not  given  to  its  firm  establishment 
at  the  outset."  Such  arguments  and  en 
treaties  as  these  poured  in  upon  Washing 
ton  from  all  quarters  of  the  broad  land, 
that  he  should  consent  to  assume  the  pres 
idential  chair. 

But  the  election  had  taken  place,  in 
obedience  to  the  fundamental  law ;  and  at 
length,  the  votes  for  the  president  and 
vice-president  of  the  United  States  were, 
as  prescribed  in  the  constitution,  opened 
and  counted  in  the  senate.  The  result 
showed,  that  neither  the  animosity  of  par 
ties,  nor  the  activity  of  the  enemies  of  the 
newly-formed  government,  could  deprive 
General  Washington  of  a  single  vote  in 
the  electoral  college.  By  the  voluntary 
and  spontaneous  voice  of  a  great  people, 
he  was  called  to  the  chief  magistracy  of 
the  nation.  The  second  number  of  votes 
was  given  to  Mr.  John  Adams,  of  Massa 


chusetts.  George  Washington  and  John 
Adams  were  therefore  declared  to  be  duly 
elected  president  and  vice-president  of  the 
United  States,  to  serve  for  four  years  from 
the  fourth  of  March,  1789. 

At  Mount  Vernon,  on  the  fourteenth  of 
April,  1789,  the  appointment  of  General 
Washington  as  supreme  executive  of  the 
republic  was  officially  announced  to  him. 
This  commission  was  performed  by  Mr. 
Charles  Thomson,  secretary  of  the  late 
congress,  who  presented  to  him  a  certifi 
cate  signed  by  John  Langdon,  president 
pro  tern  pore  of  the  senate,  stating  that  he 
was  unanimously  elected. 

Accustomed  to  respect  the  wishes  of  his 
fellow-citizens,  Washington  did  not  think 
himself  at  liberty  to  decline  an  office  con 
ferred  upon  him  by  the  unsought  suffrage 
of  an  entire  people.  His  acceptance  of  it, 
and  the  expressions  of  gratitude  he  in 
dulged  in  for  this  fresh  proof  of  the  esteem 
and  confidence  of  his  country,  were  min 
gled  with  declarations  of  extreme  diffidence 
in  himself.  "  I  wish,"  he  said,  "  that  there 
may  not  be  reason  for  regretting  the 
choice,  for,  indeed,  all  I  can  promise  is, 
to  accomplish  that  which  can  be  done  by 
an  honest  zeal."  In  this  spirit  of  devoted 
self-sacrifice,  and  realizing  that  the  ur 
gency  of  public  affairs  must  require  the 
immediate  attendance  of  the  president  at 
the  seat  of  government,  he  hastened  his 
departure ;  on  the  sixteenth  of  April, 
therefore, — the  second  day  after  receiving 
the  certificate  of  his  election, — he  bade 
adieu  to  Mount  Vernon,  to  private  life, 
and  to  domestic  felicity,  and,  in  company 
with  Mr.  Thomson  and  Colonel  Hum 
phreys,  proceeded  to  New  York,  where 
congress  was  then  in  session,  to  assume 
the  administration  of  the  new  government. 
But,  notwithstanding  the  weight  of  anxi 
ety  upon  his  mind  concerning  the  public 
business,  he  did  not  omit  to  pay  a  parting 
visit  to  his  venerable  mother.  Embracing 
his  mother,  Washington  bowed  his  head 
upon  her  shoulder  and  wept,  murmuring 
at  the  same  time  something  of  a  hope  that 
they  should  meet  again.  "No,  George," 
she  replied,  "  this  is  our  last  parting ;  my 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


141 


days  to  come  arc  few.  But  go,  fulfill  your 
high  duties,  and  may  God  bless  and  keep 
you."  She  was  then  afflicted  with  a 


town,  where  the  whole  population  turned 
out  to  do  him  honor.  And  thus  it  was, 
that,  notwithstanding  Washington  wished 


cancer,  of  which  she  died  in  her  eighty- 
second  year. 

Leaving    Alexandria,  he  was  accompa 
nied  by  a  throng  of  citizens  to   George- 


to  make  a  private  journey,  his  desire  could 
not  be  gratified.  The  public  feelings  were 
too  strong  to  be  suppressed.  Crowds 
flocked  around  him  enthusiastically  wher- 


142 


OUK  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1S7G. 


ever  he  stopped ;  and  corps  of  militia,  and 
processions  of  citizens,  attended  him 
through  their  respective  states.  At  Phil 
adelphia,  lie  was  received  hy  a  concourse 
of  the  most  distinguished  personages  of 
the  city  and  state,  and  followed  by  thou 
sands  of  people  to  a  grand  banquet,  pre 
pared  for  the  occasion,  where  addresses 
and  sentiments  were  interchanged,  while 
the  air  was  filled  with  the  shouts  of  popu 
lar  exultation,  and  with  one  universal 
acclaim,  invoking  blessings  upon  him.  As 
he  crossed  the  Schuylkill,  a  civic  crown  of 
laurel  was,  unperceived  by  him,  let  down 
upon  his  head  by  a  youth  who  was  con 
cealed  in  the  arch  of  evergreen  which  dec 
orated  the  bridge.  At  night,  the  whole 
town  was  brilliantly  illuminated,  and  all 
classes  and  ages  spontaneously  united  in 
the  happy  festivities. 

The  next  day,  at  Trenton,  he  was  wel 
comed  in  a  manner  exceedingly  novel  and 
touching.  In  addition  to  the  usual  dem 
onstrations  of  respect  and  attachment, 
which  were  given  by  the  discharge  of 
cannon,  by  military  corps,  and  by  private 
persons  of  distinction,  the  gentler  sex  pre 
pared,  in  their  own  taste,  a  most  unique 
tribute  of  their  regard,  indicative  of  the 
grateful  recollection  in  which  they  held 
their  deliverance  twelve  years  before  from 
an  insulting  enemy.  On  the  bridge  ex 
tending  across  the  stream  which  passes 
through  the  town, — the  place  where  Wash 
ington,  atone  time,  made  so  gallant  a  sur 
prise  on  the  enemy  of  his  country,  and  at 
another,  so  important  a  stand,  and  a  re 
treat  worth  more  than  a  victory, — a  tri 
umphal  arch  was  erected,  with  evergreen 
and  floral  adornments,  and  supported  by 
thirteen  pillars  similarly  enwreathed.  On 
the  front  was  inscribed,  in  large  golden 
letters:  'TiiE  DEFENDER  OF  THE  MOTH 
ERS  WILL  BE  THE  PROTECTOR  OF  THE 

DAUGHTERS.'  Over  this,  in  the  center  of 
the  arch,  above  the  inscription,  was  a 
dome  or  cupola  of  evergreens  and  flowers 
encircling  the  dates  of  two  memorable 
events,  one  of  these  being  the  bold  and 
judicious  stand  made  by  the  American 
troops,  by  which  the  progress  of  the  Brit 


ish  army  was  arrested  on  the  evening  pre 
ceding  the  battle  of  Princeton;  the  other 
was  the  date  of  Washington's  glorious 
victory  at  Trenton,  when  nine  hundred 
Hessians  were  made  prisoners,  and  the 
horizon  of  American  affairs  was  illumined 
by  a  radiance  which  never  again  wholly 
forsook  it.  On  the  summit  of  the  arch  a 
large  sun-flower,  as  always  pointing  to  the 
sun,  was  designed  to  express  this  motto, — 
'To  You  ALONE.'  The  ladies  had  ar 
ranged  themselves  on  the  side  of  the 
street,  between  the  arch  and  the  town, 
with  their  daughters  in  front,  to  a  very 
considerable  number,  all  dressed  in  white, 
and  decorated  with  floral  wreaths  and 
chaplets.  Six  of  these  held  baskets  of 
flowers  in  their  hands,  and,  as  soon  as  the 
general  had  passed  under  the  arch,  the 
beautiful  choristers  advanced,  singing  a 
sonnet  composed  for  the  occasion ;  as  they 
sung  the  last  lines  they  strewed  the  flowers 
before  the  general. 

At  Brunswick,  he  was  joined  by  Gov 
ernor  William  Livingston,  of  New  Jersey, 
who  accompanied  him  to  Elizabethtown 
Point.  On  the  road,  the  committee  of 
congress  received  and  attended  him  with 
much  military  parade  to  the  point  where 
he  was  to  embark  for  New  York.  The 
embarkation  took  place  in  a  magnificently- 
decorated  barge,  manned  and  rowed  by 
thirteen  branch  pilots,  attired  in  white. 
There  were  also  other  barges,  filled  with 
eminent  dignitaries  from  all  parts  of  the 
land. 

Arriving  at  New  York,  the  president 
was  received  by  the  governor  of  the  state, 
and  by  an  immense  concourse  of  citizens, 
headed  by  the  military.  Multitudes  of  his 
old  and  faithful  officers  and  fellow-patriots 
pressed  around  him  to  offer  their  congrat 
ulations,  and  to  express  the  joy  which 
glowed  in  their  bosoms  at  seeing  the  man 
in  whom  all  confided,  at  the  head  of  the 
nation's  affairs. 

Thus  it  appears  that  the  president's  first 
arrival  at  the  seat  of  government  was  a 
national  ovation  which  showed,  by  its 
spontaneousness,  enthusiasm,  and  unanim 
ity,  that  all  hearts  and  voices  were  united 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


143 


in  his  favor.  It  was  an  occasion  which 
excited  the  great  heart  of  the  people  be 
yond  all  powers  of  description ;  the  hand 
of  industry  was  suspended,  and  the  various 
pleasures  of  the  capital  were  centered  in  a 
single  and  universal  enjoyment.  Many 
aged  patriots  were  heard  to  say  that  they 
should  now  die  contented,  having  had  a 
sight  of  the  Father  of  his  Country. 


PRESIDENTIAL  MANSION,   1789. 

The  fourth  of  March  was  the  day  which 
had  been  appointed  for  the  new  national 
government  to  commence  operations,  but 
so  many  impediments  occurred  that  it  was 
not  until  the  thirtieth  of  April  that  this 
took  place. 

Vice-president  Adams  arrived  in  New 
York,  escorted  by  a  troop  of  horse,  on  the 
twent}'-first  of  April,  and,  two  days  before 
Washington's  arrival,  took  his  seat  as  the 
constitutional  presiding  officer  of  the 
senate.  On  doing  this,  he  addressed  that 
body  in  a  dignified  speech  adapted  to  the 
occasion,  and  warmly  eulogistic  of  the 
new-born  republic  and  its  illustrious  chief 
magistrate. 

On  Thursday,  the  thirtieth  of  April, 
1789,  the  ceremony  of  Inaugurating  the 
First  President  of  the  United  States  took 
place  in  New  York,  which  at  that  time 
was  the  federal  capital.  Long  before  the 
hour  arrived,  the  town  swarmed  with 
people ;  every  tavern  and  boarding-house 
was  full,  and  private  residences  teemed 
with  guests  and  lodgers.  Many  persons 
are  said  to  have  slept  in  tents  on  'the 
Common.'  The  Hudson  was  studded  with 
boats  bearing  visitors,  and  long  caravans 
of  carts  began  to  arrive  before  daybreak, 
from  Westchester,  Long  Island,  and  the 
Jerseys.  The  ceremony  of  the  day  was 


ushered  in  by  a  salute  fired  from  the  bat 
tery.  This  was  about  six  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  and,  even  at  this  early  hour,  the 
streets  were  fast  filling  up.  At  nine,  the 
church  bells  rang  out  a  merry  peal ;  at  ten 
they  summoned  the  worshipers  to  church, 
each  pastor  devoting  the  occasion  to  im 
ploring  Heaven's  blessing  upon  the  nation 
and  the  first  president.  General  Wash 
ington  had  now  been  in  the  city  a  week, 
having  arrived  on  the  twenty-third.  He 
was  living  in  a  private  house,  the  prop 
erty  of  Mr.  Osgood,  on  the  corner  of 
Cherry  street  and  Franklin  square;  but 
his  household  arrangements  had  not  yet 
been  perfected,  as  Mrs.  Washington  did 
not  arrive  for  some  little  time,  remaining 
at  Mount  Vernon  until  affairs  were  in  a 
state  of  readiness  for  her  presence  at  the 
new  presidential  mansion. 

At  eight  o'clock,  on  this  memorable 
morning,  the  sky  was  overcast,  and  the 
appearance  was  that  of  a  gathering  storm. 
Everybody  noticed,  however,  that  the  mo 
ment  the  bells  began  to  ring  the  sky 
cleared,  and  by  the  close  of  divine  service 
the  weather  was  serene  and  beautiful.  At 
noon,  the  procession  that  was  to  conduct 
the  president  to  Federal  hall  assembled 
in  due  style  opposite  his  residence  in 
Cherry  street.  There  were  the  usual  mil 
itary  companies — a  troop  of  horse,  one  or 
two  companies  of  grenadiers,  a  company  of 
Highlanders,  in  kilts, — all  the  chief  mu 
nicipal  officers,  the  congressional  commit- 


PRESIDENTIAL  MANSION,   1876. 

tees,  and  the  new  cabinet, — multitudes  of 
distinguished  citizens  bringing  up  the 
rear.  By  this  assemblage  the  new  presi 
dent  was  escorted  to  Federal  hall,  which 
stood  at  the  head  of  Broad  street,  in  Wall, 


144 


OUK  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


where  the  custom-house  was  subsequently 
built.  The  old  building  had  been  put  in 
repair  at  a  considerable  expense,  but  it 
was  still  so  rickety  that  cautious  persons 
looked  forward  to  the  ceremony  with  un 
easiness.  The  procession  having  arrived, 
and  the  hall  occupied  according  to  the  pro 
gramme,  nothing  remained  but  to  proceed 
with  the  solemn  formalities ;  and,  when  it 
is  remembered  that  there  was  no  precedent 
in  history  for  the  inauguration  of  a  repub 
lican  president,  one  can  not  but  admire  the 
striking  dignity  which  characterized  the 
whole  occasion.  At  the  door  of  the  senate 
chamber,  to  which  the  eyes  of  the  whole 
vast  multitude  were  intensely  directed,  the 
vice-president  met  General  Washington, 
and  with  consummate  but  unaffected  ease 
and  grace  of  manner  said — 

'•  Sir,  the  senate  and  house  of  represent 
atives  of  the  United  States  are  ready  to 
attend  you  to  take  the  oath  required  by 
the  Constitution,  which  will  be  adminis 
tered  to  you  by  the  chancellor  of  the  state 
of  ^7eu>  York." 

"I  am  ready  to  proceed"  was  Washing 
ton's  reply,  made  with  his  accustomed 
elegant  dignity. 

The  vice-president  now  led  the  way  to 
the  outside  gallery ;  the  president  fol 
lowed,  with  as  many  of  the  high  function 
aries  as  could  find  room,  and  all  were  pres 
ently  gathered  on  the  balcony  fronting  on 
Wall  street.  Of  the  group,  perhaps  the 
most  striking  person  was  Chancellor  Liv 
ingston,  in  a  full  suit  of  black,  and,  like 
Washington,  one  of  the  finest-looking  men 
anywhere  to  be  seen.  Secretary  Otis  car 
ried  the  Bible  on  a  crimson  cushion,  and 
near  him  were  Generals  Knox  and  St. 
Clair,  Roger  Sherman,  Hamilton,  and 
other  noted  persons  of  revolutionary  fame. 
At  the  proper  moment,  the  chancellor  ad 
ministered  the  oath,  with  great  delibera 
tion  and  emphasis,  to  Washington,  who, 
bowing  down,  seized  the  book,  kissed  it, 
and  exclaimed,  with  closed  eyes  and  much 
emotion — 

"  I  swear,  so  help  me  God!" 

"It  is  done,"  the  chancellor  declared, 
and,  turning  to  the  crowd  exclaimed, 


"Long  live  George  Washington,  President 
of  the  United  States  !  " 

This  last-named  declaration,  on  the  part 
of  the  chancellor,  was  in  imitation  of  mo 
narchical  custom.  The  error  of  this  prac 
tice  was,  however,  soon  exposed  and 
abandoned;  but  at  this  time,  the  crowd 
thought  of  nothing  but  the  exciting  solem 
nity  of  the  scene,  and  many  who  demon 
stratively  waved  their  hats  were  too 
overcome  by  emotion  to  join  in  the  huzzas. 

Of  course,  Washington  was  the  observed 
of  all  observers  in  that  mighty  crowd,  and 
his  grandly-commanding  figure  made  this 
both  natural  and  easy,  and  so  too  did  the 
construction  of  the  balcony,  conspicuously 
fronting  the  edifice,  where  the  remarkable 
ceremony  was  performed.  He  was  dressed 
in  a  complete  suit  of  dark  brown  broad 
cloth,  of  American  production,  white  silk 
long  stockings,  silver  shoe-buckles  upon 
his  polished  shoes,  a  steel-hilted  dress 
sword,  and  his  hair  dressed  and  powdered 
according  to  the  style  then  in  vogue,  and 
gathered  up  in  a  bag.  This  attire,  it  may 
be  remarked,  was  Washington's  personal 
choice.  On  the  occasion  of  his  second  in 
auguration,  however,  Washington  was 
dressed  precisely  as  Stuart  has  painted 
him  in  Lord  Lansdowne's  full-length  por 
trait — in  a  full  suit  of  the  richest  black 
A'elvet,  with  diamond  knee-buckles,  and 
square  silver  buckles  set  upon  shoes  ja 
panned  with  the  most  scrupulous  neatness, 
black  silk  stockings,  his  shirt  ruffled  at  the 
breast  and  wrists,  a  light  dress-sword;  his 
hair  profusely  powdered,  fully  dressed,  so 
as  to  project  at  the  sides,  and  gathered  be 
hind  in  a  silk  bag,  ornamented  with  a 
large  rose  of  black  ribbon.  He  held  his 
cocked  hat,  which  had  a  large  black  cock 
ade  on  one  side  of  it,  in  his  hand,  while 
standing,  but  laid  it  on  the  table  when  he 
sat  down. 

Washington,  on  taking  the  oath,  as  ad 
ministered  by  Chancellor  Livingston,  is 
said  to  have  laid  his  hand  upon  that  page 
of  the  Bible  containing  the  fiftieth  chapter 
of  Genesis,  opposite  to  which  were  two 
illustrations  of  the  text,  one  being  a  pic 
ture  of  '  The  Blessing  of  Zebulon,'  and  the. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


145 


other  of  '  The  Prophecy  of  Issachar.'  That 
memorable  volume,  of  such  peculiar  his 
torical  associations,  now  belongs  to  one  of 
the  masonic  lodges  in  New  York.  Upon 
each  of  the  two  outside  surfaces  of  the  vol 
ume,  there  is  engraved  in  golden  letters  a 
commemorative  record  of  the  interesting 
circumstances  attaching  to  it ;  and  on  the 
inside,  beautifully  written  upon  parch 
ment,  in  ornamental  st}-le,  surmounted  by 
an  engraved  portrait  of  Washington,  is 
the  following  statement : 

'  On  this  Sacred  Volume,  on  the  30th  day 
of  April,  1789,  in  the  city  of  New  York, 
was  administered  to  GEORGE  WASHIXGTO:ST 
the  first  President  of  the  United  States  of 
America,  the  oath  i:o  support  the  Constitu 
tion  of  the  United  States.  This  important 
ceremony  was  performed  by  the  Most 
Worshipful  Grand  Master  of  Free  and 
Accepted  Masons  of  the  state  of  New 
York,  the  Honorable  Robert  R.  Livings 
ton,  Chancellor  of  the  state.' 

The  inaugm-al  address  delivered  by 
Washington,  and  which,  like  all  the  early 
inaugurals,  possessed  the  merit  of  brevity, 
was  pronounced  in  the  senate  chamber.  It 
was  considered,  in  those  days,  a  speech  to 
congress  and  not  to  the  people ;  and  both 
houses  felt  it  incumbent  on  them — follow 
ing  the  usage  of  monarchies, — to  present 
replies  to  the  president,  at  his  residence. 

From  the  senate  chamber,  the  president 
was  escorted  to  St.  Paul's  church,  where 
he  heard  an  appropriate  religious  service, 
conducted  by  Dr.  Prevost;  and  thence 
home  to  his  house.  In  the  evening  the 
whole  city  was  one  blaze  of  illumination, 
all  classes  participating  in  this  attractive 


feature  of  the  general  jubilee.  Many  of 
the  illuminations  were  very  beautiful — 
none  more  so  than  those  of  the  French  and 
Spanish  ministers,  who  both  lived  in 
Broadway,  near  the  Bowling  Green ;  and 
the  whole  scene  was  unique,  animated,  and 
enchanting.  General  Washington  him 
self  went  'down  town,'  that  is  to  say, 
toward  the  Battery,  to  see  the  spectacle,  of 
which  he  expressed  the  warmest  admira 
tion  ;  returning  about  ten  o'clock  on  foot, 
the  crowd  being  too  dense  for  a  carriage 
to  pass. 

As  the  supreme  head  of  the  nation, 
President  Washington  at  once  endeavored 
to  acquaint  himself  fully  with  the  state  of 
public  affairs,  and  for  this  purpose,  he 
called  upon  those  who  had  been  the  heads 
of  departments  under  the  confederation,  to 
report  to  him  the  situation  of  their  respec 
tive  concerns.  He  also,  having  consulted 
with  his  friends,  adopted  a  S}Tstem  for  the 
order  of  his  own  household,  for  the  regu 
lation  of  his  hours  of  business,  and  of  in 
tercourse  with  those  who,  in  a  formal 
manner,  visited  him  as  the  chief  magis 
trate  of  the  nation.  But  he  publicly  an 
nounced  that  neither  visits  of  business  nor 
of  ceremony  would  be  expected  on  Sunday, 
as  he  wished  to  reserve  that  day  sacredly 
to  himself.  One  of  the  most  important 
and  delicate  of  the  president's  duties  was 
to  fill  those  departments  which  congress  at 
an  early  day  had  established  to  aid  the 
executive  in  the  administration  of  the 
government.  His  judgment  and  prudence 
were  consistently  exhibited  in  this  respect, 
by  his  selecting  such  able  men  for  his 
cabinet. 


10 


XII. 

GREATEST  DEFEAT  AND  VICTORY  OF  AMERICAN  ARMS 
IN  THE  INDIAN  WARS.— 1791. 


Headlong  Flight  and  Destruction  cf  St.  Clair's  Army,  in  1791,  Before  the  Trained  Warriors  of  "Lit 
tle  Turtle." — This  Mortifying  Disaster  Retrieved  by  Wayne's  Overwhelming  Triumph  in  1794. — Final 
and  Crushing  Blow  Dealt  by  Jackson,  in  1814. — The  Question  of  Power  Between  the  Two  Races  For 
ever  settled  in  Favor  of  the  Whites. — Old  Feuds  Between  the  Races. — Ilarmer's  Expedition  to  the 
North-west. — Powerless  in  Ambush  Warfare. — Repeated  and  Bloody  Reverses. — St.  Ciair  put  in  Com 
mand. — Warning  Words  of  Washington. — Sudden  Attack  by  the  Miamis. — Terrible  Slaughter  of  the 
Whites. — Overthrow  of  the  Whole  Campaign — Washington's  Reception  of  the  News. — His  Appall 
ing  Wrath. — Sketch  of  St.  Clair's  Conqueror. — His  Fame  at  Home  and  Abroad — General  Wayne 
Sent  to  the  Field. — Unsuccessfully  Proffers  Peace. — Instantly  Prepares  for  Battle. —  ;reat  Army  of 
Indian  Warriors  — Their  Sagacious  Choice  of  Position. — Desperate  Fury  of  the  Conflict. — Wayne's 
Prowess  Irresistible. — Death  Knell  of  the  Savages. — Their  Confederacy  Shattered. 


"  Nothing  but  lamentable  inundi  wu  heard, 
Nur  auitht  wn«  teen  but  ichaatly  views  of  death, 
Infectious  horror  ran  from  fuce  to  face. 
And  pale  despair." 


LL  historians  agree  in  declaring  that  the 
defeat  of  General  St.  Clair,  in  1791,  by 
the  Indians  of  the  north-west  territory, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


147 


was  the  most  signal  and  disastrous  ever 
sustained  by  the  American  army,  in  its 
battles  with  the  warriors  of  the  forest. 

On  the  other  hand,  this  defeat — the 
news  of  which  fell  like  a  thunderbolt  upon 
the  then  struggling  and  distracted  govern 
ment, — was  retrieved  by  a  most  complete 
and  decisive  victory,  under  General 
Wayne,  over  these  same  tribes,  collected 
together  in  a  vast  and  powerful  horde,  at 
the  rapids  of  the  Maumee,  in  1794 ;  a  vic 
tory  which,  taken  in  connection  with  the 
subsequent  overwhelming  triumph  of  Gen 
eral  Jackson,  in  his  campaign  against  the 
Creeks,  gave  the  finishing  stroke  to  the 
power  of  the  Indian  race  in  North  Amer 
ica, —  settling  forever  the  long  struggle 
that  had  been  carried  011  between  the  white 
man  and  the  red  man,  in  favor  of  the 
former,  though  the  warlike  propensities  of 
the  savages  occasionally  broke  out  in  sub 
sequent  years,  as  in  1811,  under  Tecum- 
seh ;  the  Creek  war,  of  1814,  under 
Weatherford  ;  the  terrible  Seminole  cam 
paign  ;  the  Cherokee  contest ;  the  hostili 
ties  of  the  Sacs,  Foxes,  and  Winnebagoes, 
under  Black  Hawk ;  the  renowned  Flor 
ida  war,  of  1835,  under  Micanopy  and  Os- 
ceola ;  etc.  These  later  wars  tasked,  to 
the  utmost,  the  military  skill  of  such 
trained  soldiers  as  Jackson,  Harrison, 
Worth,  Harney,  Jessup,  Clinch,  Thomp 
son,  Dade,  Atkinson,  Gaines,  Taylor.  Red 
Jacket,  and  Cornplanter,  were  prominent 
chieftains  in  the  wars  of  the  Senecas. 

In  the  month  of  September,  1790,  Gen 
eral  Harmer  was  intrusted  with  the  import 
ant  duty  of  looking  after  the  fierce  tribes 
on  the  Miami  and  Wabasli,  between  whom 
and  the  Kentuckians  there  had  long  waged 
a  relentless  war.  The  general  went  for 
ward  with  a  body  of  three  hundred  and 
twenty  regulars,  who,  being  re-enforced  by 
the  militia  of  Pennsylvania  and  Kentucky, 
formed  a  corps  of  one  thousand  four  hun 
dred  and  fifty-three  men.  The  Indians, 
on  his  approach,  set  fire  to  their  villages  ; 
but  this  was  nothing,  unless  they  could  be 
brought  to  an  engagement.  Harmer, 
however,  instead  of  advancing  himself, 
with  the  main  body,  sent  forward  Colonel 


Hardin,  with  two  hundred  and  ten  men, 
of  whom  only  thirty  were  regulars.  They 
were  attacked  ;  the  militia  fled  ;  the  others 
were  nearly  cut  off.  The  general  then 
sent  forward  Hardin,  with  three  hundred 
men,  who  speedily  encountered  another 
large  body.  After  a  brave  contest,  in 
which  this  party  lost  nearly  half  their 
number,  they  retreated  on  the  main  body. 
Thus  disaster  followed  disaster,  and  the 
nation  became  sore  and  mortified  under 
such  repeated  humiliations. 

One  of  the  last  measures,  therefore, 
adopted  by  the  United  States  congress, 
the  ensuing  year,  1791,  was  to  augment 
the  national  military  force,  to  a  suitable 
degree  of  power,  and  to  place  in  the  hands 
of  President  Washington  more  ample 
means  for  the  protection  of  the  frontier,  as 
the  Indians  on  the  north-west  side  of  the 
Ohio  still  continued  their  hostilities.  A 
new  expedition  against  the  belligerent 
tribes  had,  in  consequence,  been  projected ; 
and  General  St.  Glair,  then  governor  of 
the  territory  west  of  the  Ohio,  was  ap 
pointed  commander  of  the  forces  to  be  em 
ployed.  Washington  had  been  deeply 
chagrined  by  the  mortifying  disasters  of 
General  Harmer's  expedition  to  the  Wa- 
bash,  resulting  from  Indian  ambushes. 
In  taking  leave,  therefore,  of  his  old  mili 
tary  comrade,  St.  Clair,  he  wished  him 
success  and  honor,  and  added  this  solemn 
warning : 

"  You  have  your  instructions  from  the 
secretary  of  war.  I  had  a  strict  eye  to 
them,  and  will  add  but  one  word, — Be 
ware  of  a  surprise !  You  know  how  the 
Indians  fight.  I  repeat  it — Beware  of  a 
surprise  !  " 

With  these  warning  words  sounding  in 
his  ear,  fresh  with  Washington's  awful 
emphasis,  St.  Clair  departed. 

On  the  fourth  of  November,  while  the 
main  body  of  St.  Glair's  army  were  en 
camped  in  two  lines  on  rising  ground, 
some  fifteen  miles  south  of  the  Miami  vil 
lages  on  one  of  the  tributaries  of  the  Wa- 
bash,  and  the  militia  upon  a  high  flat  on 
the  other  side  of  the  stream,  they  were 
surprised  and  terribly  attacked  by  an  In- 


148 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


dian  force  which  lay  concealed  in  the 
woods.  General  St.  Clair,  who  was  suffer 
ing  severely  from  gout,  was  unable  to 
mount  his  horse,  and  had  to  be  carried 
about  in  a  litter,  from  which  he  gave  his 
orders  with  discretion  and  the  most  perfect 
coolness.  The  battle  raged  fearfully  for 
nearly  three  hours,  and  after  nearly  half 
of  his  army  had  been  slaughtered,  St.  Clair 
beat  a  headlong  retreat.  Thus  were  all 
the  plans,  hopes  and  labors  of  President 
Washington,  congress,  and  the  cabinet,  in 
reference  to  the  Indian  campaign,  utterly 
and  deplorably  overthrown  in  a  single 
day  !  This  result  is  stated  to  have  arisen 
thus  :  On  the  third  of  November,  St.  Clair 
formed  his  force  into  two  lines;  the  first, 
under  the  command  of  General  Butler, 
composed  the  right  wing,  and  lay  with  a 
creek  immediately  in  their  front.  The 
left  wing,  commanded  by  Colonel  Darke, 
formed  the  second,  and  lay  with  an  inter 
val  of  about  seventy  yards  between  them 
and  the  first  line.  The  militia  were  ad 
vanced  beyond  the  creek,  about  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  in  front.  About  half  an  hour 
before  sunrise  the  next  morning,  just  after 
the  troops  had  been  dismissed  from  the 
parade,  an  unexpected  attack  was  made 
upon  the  militia,  who  fled  in  the  utmost 
confusion,  and  rushing  into  camp  through 
the  first  line  of  regular  troops,  which  had 


been  formed  the  instant  the  first  gun  was 
discharged,  threw  them  too  into  disorder. 
Such  was  the  panic,  and  so  rapid  and  irreg 
ular  the  flight,  that  the  exertions  of  the 
officers  to  recall  the  men  to  their  senses 
and  to  duty  were  quite  unavailing. 

It  was  soon  perceived  that  the  American 
fire  could  produce,  on  a  concealed  enemy, 
no  considerable  effect,  and  that  the  only 
hope  of  victory  was  in  the  bayonet.  At 
the  head  of  the  second  regiment,  which 
formed  the  left  of  the  left  wing,  Darke 
made  an  impetuous  charge  upon  the 
enemy,  forced  them  from  their  ground 
with  some  loss,  and  drove  them  about  four 
hundred  yards.  He  was  followed  by  that 
whole  wing ;  but  the  want  of  a  sufficient 
number  of  riflemen  to  press  this  advan 
tage,  deprived  him  of  its  benefit,  and,  as 
soon  as  he  gave  over  the  pursuit,  the  In 
dians  renewed  the  attack.  In  the  mean 
time,  General  Butler  was  mortally 


WAYNE'S  DEFEAT  OK  THE  INDIANS. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


149 


wounded,  the  left  of  the  right  wing  was 
broken,  the  artillerists  almost  to  a  man 
killed,  the  guns  seized,  and  the  camp  pen 
etrated  by  the  enemy.  Orders  were  given 
to  again  charge  with  the  bayonet;  this 
was  done  with  spirit  and  momentary  suc 
cess,  the  Indians  being  driven  out  of  the 
camp,  and  the  artillery  recovered. 

To  save  the  remnant  of  the  army  was 
all  that  now  remained  to  be  done ;  and, 
about  half-past  nine  in  the  morning,  Gen 
eral  St.  Clair  ordered  Colonel  Darke,  with 
the  second  regiment,  to  charge  a  body  of 
Indians  who  intercepted  their  retreat,  and 
to  gain  the  road.  Major  Clarke,  with  his 
battalion,  was  directed  to  cover  the  rear. 
These  orders  were  executed,  and  then  a 
disorderly  flight  commenced.  The  pursuit 
was  kept  up  about  four  miles,  when,  fortu 
nately  for  the  surviving  Americans,  the 
victorious  savages,  eager  for  plunder, 
stopped  at  the  camp  of  their  vanquished 
foes,  to  divide  the  spoils.  The  routed 
troops  continued  their  flight  to  Fort  Jef 
ferson  —  some  thirty  miles,  —  throwing 
away  their  arms  along  the  road.  At  this 
place  they  met  the  detached  regiment,  and 
leaving  their  wounded  at  Fort  Jefferson, 
the  army  continued  its  retreat  to  Fort 
Washington,  the  site  of  the  present  city 
of  Cincinnati. 

Poor  St.  Glair's  defeat  has  been  aptly 
paralleled  with  that  of  Braddock.  No 
doubt,  when  he  realized  the  terrible  havoc 
that  had  been  made,  he  thought  sadly  of 
Washington's  parting  words,  "  Beware  of 
a  surprise  ! "  The  manner  in  which  the 
news  of  this  disaster  affected  Washington 
is  thus  described  by  Mr.  Rush  : — 

Towards  the  close  of  a  winter's  day,  in 
December,  an  officer  in  uniform  was  seen 
to  dismount  in  front  of  the  president's 
house  in  Philadelphia,  and,  giving  the 
bridle  to  his  servant,  knock  at  the  door  of 
the  mansion.  Learning  from  the  porter 
that  the  president  was  at  dinner,  he  said 
he  was  on  public  business,  having  dis 
patches  which  he  could  deliver  only  to  the 
commander-in-chief.  A  servant  was  sent 
into  the  dining-room  to  give  the  informa 
tion  to  Mr.  Lear,  the  president's  private 


secretary,  who  left  the  table  and  went  into 
the  hall,  where  the  officer  repeated  what 
he  had  said.  Mr.  Lear  replied  that,  as 
the  president's  secretary,  he  would  take 
charge  of  the  dispatches  and  deliver  them 
at  the  proper  time.  The  officer  made 
answer  that  he  had  just  arrived  from  the 
western  army,  and  his  orders  were  explicit 
to  deliver  them  with  all  promptitude,  and 
to  the  president  in  person ;  but  that  he 
would  wait  his  directions.  Mr.  Lear  re 
turned,  and  in  a  whisper  imparted  to  the 
president  what  had  passed.  General 
Washington  rose  from  the  table  and  went 
to  the  officer.  He  was  back  in  a  short 
time,  made  a  word  of  apology  for  his  ab 
sence,  but  no  allusion  to  the  cause  of  it. 
He  had  company  that  day.  Everything 
went  on  as  usual.  Dinner  over,  the  gen 
tlemen  passed  to  the  drawing-room  of  Mrs. 
Washington,  which  was  open  in  the  even 
ing.  The  general  spoke  courteously  to 
every  lady  in  the  room,  as  was  his  custom. 
His  hours  were  early,  and  by  ten  o'clock 
all  the  company  had  gone.  Soon  Mrs. 
Washington  left  the  room,  and  the  general 
and  Mr.  Lear  remained.  The  chief  now 
paced  the  room  in  hurried  strides,  and 
without  speaking,  for  several  minutes. 
Then  he  sat  down  on  a  sofa  by  the  fire, 
telling  Mr.  Lear  to  sit  down.  He  rose 
again,  and,  as  he  walked  backward  and 
forward,  Mr.  Lear  saw  a  storm  gathering. 
In  the  agony  of  his  emotion,  he  struck  his 
clenched  hands  with  fearful  force  against 
his  forehead,  and  in  a  paroxysm  of  anguish 
exclaimed — 

"It's  all  over!  St.  Clair's  defeated— 
routed ;  the  officers  nearly  all  killed — the 
men  by  wholesale — that  brave  army  cut  to 
pieces — the  rout  complete  !  too  shocking  to 
think  of — and  a  surprise  in  the  bargain  !  " 

He  uttered  all  this  with  great  vehe 
mence.  Then  he  paused,  and  walked 
about  the  room  several  times,  agitated,  but 
saying  nothing.  Near  the  door  he  stopped 
short  and  stood  still  a  few  seconds ;  then, 
turning  to  the  secretary,  who  stood  amazed 
at  the  spectacle  of  Washington  in  all  his 
terrors,  the  general,  in  his  wrath,  again 
broke  out,  saying, 


150 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


"  Yes,  sir,  HERE,  in  this  very  room,  on 
this  very  spot,  I  took  leave  of  him;  I 
wished  him  success  and  honor.  '  You 
have  your  instructions/  I  said,  '  from  the 
secretary  of  war;  I  had  a  strict  eye  to 
them,  and  will  add  but  one  word — beware 
of  a  surprise  !  I  repeat  it — beware  of  a 
surprise!  You  know  how  the  Indians 
fight  us.'  He  went  off  with  that  as  my 
last  solemn  warning  thrown  into  his  ears. 
And  yet,  to  suffer  that  army  to  be  cut  to 
pieces,  hacked  by  a  surprise — the  very 
thing  I  guarded  him  against !  0  God ! 
0  God !  he's  worse  than  a  murderer ! 
How  can  he  answer  it  to  his  country? 
The  blood  of  the  slain  is  upon  him — the 
curse  of  widows  and  orphans — the  curse  of 
heaven ! " 

This  torrent  came  out  in  tone  appalling. 
His  very  frame  shook.  "  It  was  awful !  " 


said  Mr.  Lear.  More  than  once  he  threw 
his  hands  up  as  he  hurled  imprecations 
upon  St.  Clair.  Mr.  Lear  remained  speech 
less — awed  into  breathless  silence.  Pres 
ently  the  roused  chief  sat  down  on  the 
sofa  once  more.  He  seemed  conscious  of 
his  passion,  and  uncomfortable.  He  was 
silent;  his  wrath  began  to  subside.  He 
at  length  said,  in  an  altered  voice, 

"  This  must  not  go  beyond  this  room." 
Another  pause  followed — a  longer  one — 
when  he  said,  in  a  tone  quite  low, 

"General   St.  Clair  shall  have  justice. 
I  looked  hastily  through  the  dispatches — 


saw  the  whole  disaster,  but  not  all  the  par 
ticulars.  I  will  hear  him  without  preju 
dice  ;  he  shall  have  full  justice  ;  yes,  long, 
faithful,  and  meritorious  services  have 
their  claims." 

Washington  was  now  perfectly  calm. 
Half  an  hour  had  gone  by  ;  the  storm  of 
indignation  and  passion  was  over,  and  no 
sign  of  it  was  afterward  seen  in  his  con 
duct  or  heard  in  his  conversation.  His 
wrath  on  this  occasion  was  perhaps  never 
before  aroused  to  so  great  a  pitch,  except 
when  he  confronted  Lee,  when  the  latter 
was  retreating  at  the  battle  of  Mon mouth. 
St.  Clair  was  succeeded  by  the  brave 
General  Wayne,  whose  successes  retrieved 
the  misfortunes  of  his  predecessor,  as  the 
following  stirring  record  will  show.  It 
will  be  interesting,  however,  to  have  some 
account  of  the  character  and  personal  ap 
pearance  of  Michikiniqua,  or 
"Little  Turtle,"  the  Missesago 
chief,  who  conquered  St.  Clair, 
for  in  no  recorded  battle  did  the 
sons  of  the  forest  ever  show 
themselves  better  warriors,  or 
achieve  more  renown  at  home 
and  abroad. 

Notwithstanding  his  name, 
Little  Turtle  was  at  this  time  at 
least  six  feet  high,  strong,  mus 
cular,  and  remarkably  dignified 
in  his  manners,  though  of  a  very 
sour  and  morose  countenance, 
and  apparently  very  crafty  and 
subtle.  He  was  the  son  of  a 
Miami  chief,  and  was  forty-five 
years  of  age  when  he  led  his  warriors 
against  poor  St.  Clair.  His  warlike  train 
ing  was  of  that  stern  and  hardening  kind 
which  was  never  omitted  in  his  nation. 

It  was  on  the  banks  of  the  Miami,  or 
Maumee,  in  1794,  that  General  Anthony 
Wayne,  the  successor  of  St.  Clair  in  the 
command  of  the  American  army  in  the 
Miami  country,  dealt  a  retributive  and 
staggering  blow  to  the  power  of  the  In 
dians  in  that  vast  and  magnificent  region, 
— a  blow  from  which  they  never  recovered. 
Realizing  the  terrible  shock  which  the 
nation  received  by  the  defeat  of  St.  Clair, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


151 


the  brave  Wayne — "  mad  Anthony,"  as  he 
was  commonly  called,  on  account  of  his 
reckless  courage, — at  once  made  the  best 
of  his  way  to  the  theater  of  action,  for  it 
was  easy  to  foresee,  what  indeed  immedi 
ately  ensued,  that,  under  the  encourage 
ment  of  the  successes  against  Harmer  and 
St.  Glair,  all  the  treaties  would  be  dis- 


solved,  and  a  general  savage  confederacy 
formed  against  the  United  States. 

On  the  eighth  of  August,  1794,  Wayne 
had  reached  the  confluence  of  the  Au 
Glaize  and  the  Miamis  of  the  lakes,  with 
out  opposition.  The  richest  and  most 
extensive  settlements  of  the  western  In 
dians  were  here.  Halting  at  this  place, 
a  few  days,  the  Americans  threw  up  some 
works  of  defense.  A  fort  had  also  been 
built  on  the  St.  Mary,  twenty-four  miles 
in  advance  of  Fort  Recovery. 

Unwilling  to  lose  time,  or  to  be  in  any 
way  outwitted,  Wayne  moved  forward  on 
the  fifteenth  of  August,  and  on  the  six 
teenth  met  his  messenger  returning  from 
the  Indians,  and  bearing  word  from  them, 
that,  if  the  Americans  would  wait  ten  days 
at  Glaize,  they,  the  Indians,  would  decide 
for  peace  or  war.  Wayne's  only  notice  of 
this  evasive  message  was  to  march  straight 
on,  arriving,  on  the  eighteenth,  at  the 
rapids  ;  here  they  halted,  and  labored  the 
next  day  in  erecting  works  for  the  protec 
tion  of  their  baggage.  At  eight,  on  the 
morning  of  the  twentieth,  the  American 
army  moved  down  the  north  bank  of  the 


Maumee ;  Wayne's  legion  was  on  the 
right,  its  flank  covered  by  the  Maumee; 
one  brigade  of  mounted  volunteers  was  on 
the  left,  under  Brigadier-General  Todd; 
and  the  other  was  in  the  rear,  under  Brig 
adier-General  Barbee.  A  selected  battal 
ion  of  mounted  volunteers  moved  in  front 
of  the  legion,  commanded  by  Major  Price, 
who  was  directed  to  keep  sufficiently  ad 
vanced,  so  as  to  give  timely  notice  for  the 
troops  to  form  in  case  of  action,  it  being 
yet  undetermined  whether  the  Indians 
would  choose  peace  or  war. 

Wayne  says,  in  his  official  dispatch, 
that,  after  advancing  about  five  miles, 
Major  Price's  corps  received  so  severe  a 
fire  from  the  enemy,  who  were  secreted  in 
the  woods  and  high  grass,  as  to  compel 
them  to  retreat.  The  legion  was  immedi 
ately  formed  into  two  lines,  principally  in 
a  close  thick  wood,  which  extended  for 
miles  on  the  left,  and  for  a  very  consider 
able  distance  in  front ;  the  ground  was 
covered  with  old  fallen  timber,  probably 
occasioned  by  a  tornado,  which  rendered  it 
impracticable  for  the  cavalry  to  act  with 
effect,  and  afforded  the  enemy  the  most 
favorable  covert  for  their  mode  of  warfare. 
The  savages  were  formed  in  three  lines, 
within  supporting  distance  of  each  other, 
and  extending  for  nearly  two  miles  at 
right  angles  with  the  river.  Wayne  soon 
discovered,  from  the  weight  of  the  fire  and 
the  extent  of  their  lines,  that  the  enemy 
were  in  full  force  in  front,  in  possession 
of  their  favorite  ground,  and  endeavoring 
to  turn  the  American  left  flank.  He  there 
fore  gave  orders  for  the  second  line  to 
advance  and  support  the  first,  and  directed 
Major-General  Scott  to  gain  and  turn  the 
right  flank  of  the  savages,  with  the  whole 
of  the  mounted  volunteers,  by  a  circuitous 
route;  at  the  same  time,  the  front  line  was 
ordered  to  advance  and  charge  with  trailed 
arms,  and  rouse  the  Indians  from  their 
coverts  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet,  and 
when  up  to  deliver  a  close  and  well-directed 
fire  on  their  backs,  followed  by  a  brisk 
charge,  so  as  not  to  give  them  time  to 
load  again. 

All  these  orders  were  obeyed  with  spirit 


152 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


and  promptitude ;  l>ut  such  was  the  im 
petuosity  of  the  charge  by  the  first  line  of 
infantry,  that  the  Indians  and  Canadian 
militia  and  volunteers  were  driven  from 
their  coverts  in  so  short  a  time,  that, 
although  every  possible  exertion  was  used 


LITTLE  TURTLE. 


by  the  officers  of  the  second  line  of  the 
legion,  and  by  Generals  Scott,  Todd,  and 
Barbee,  of  the  mounted  volunteers,  to  gain 
their  proper  positions,  only  a  part  of  each 
could  get  up  in  season  to  participate  in  the 
action, — the  enemy  being  driven,  in  the 
course  of  one  hour,  more  than  two  miles, 
through  the  thick  woods,  by  less  than  one- 
half  their  numbers.  Thus  did  this  power 
ful  horde  of  savages,  who  had  assumed  to 
dictate  terms  and  throw  down  the  gauntlet 
to  the  American  nation,  abandon  them 
selves  to  flight,  and  flee  in  terror  and  dis 
may,  before  Wayne  and  his  victorious 
army.  They  were  compelled  to  sue  for 
peace  on  the  conqueror's  own  terms;  their 


confederacy  was  shattered  into  fragments; 
their  power  was  forever  annihilated.  On 
the  return  of  Wayne  to  Philadelphia,  then 
the  nation's  capital,  there  was  a  cessation 
of  all  business,  as  on  some  great  holiday ; 
the  military  turned  out  in  legions  to  meet 
him ;  the  bells  rang  out  their  merriest 
peals,  cannon  boomed  from  every  hill-top, 
and  the  plaudits  of  the  multitude  attended 
him  at  every  step.  General  Harrison's 
defeat  of  the  Indians  under  Tecumseh,  at 
Tippecanoe,  in  1811,  was  another  victory 
of  similar  brilliancy  and  importance,  de 
serving  of  mention  here. 

It  only  remains  to  add  to  this  chapter, 
General  Jackson's  crowning  achievement 
in  the  work  of  grinding  to  powder  the  mil 
itary  prestige  of  the  Indian  race  in  North 
America.  The  Creeks  and  Seminoles  had 
long  disputed  the  intrusion  of  the  white 
race,  and,  though  dreadfully  cut  to  pieces 
in  the  battles  of  Talluschatches,  Talladega, 
Emuckfaw,  Enotochopco,  and  others,  de 
termined  to  make  one  more  great  and  final 
struggle  in  the  field.  Accordingly,  with 
consummate  sagacity  and  skill,  they  se 
lected  a  position  at  the  great  bend  of  the 
Tallapoosa,  called  by  them  Tohopeka,  and 
by  the  whites  Horseshoe  Bend.  Here, 
strongly  fortified,  were  collected  together 
the  proudest,  fiercest,  most  victorious  war 
riors,  of  all  that  race  and  region.  On  the 
27th  of  March,  1814,  Jackson  advanced 
and  attacked  them  with  tremendous  en 
ergy,  the  troops  leaping  over  the  walls  of 
the  fort,  and  engaging  in  a  hand-to-hand 
combat  with  the  savages,  the  latter  fight 
ing  with  characteristic  fury  and  despera 
tion.  Of  the  nine  hundred  warriors, — the 
flower  of  their  tribes, — who  defended  the 
fort,  seven  hundred  and  fifty  were  killed 
or  drowned ;  for,  seeing  no  chance  of 
escape,  and  scorning  to  surrender,  they 
fought  with  bloody  energy  until  nearly  all 
were  slain. 


XIII. 


WHITNEY'S  EXTRAORDINARY   COTTON-GIN  INVEN 
TION.— 1793. 


Amazing  Impetus  Given  to  the  Culture,  Uses  and  Consumption  of  Cotton. — Revolution  in  the  In 
dustrial  Prospects  and  Political  Power  of  the  South. — How  Cotton  Became  "  King." — Its  Relation  to 
the  Great  Themes  and  Events  in  American  History. — Ingratitude  to  Whitney. — His  Brilliant  Change 
of  Fortune  in  Another  Sphere — Whitney's  Obscure  Circumstances  — His  Early  Mechanical  Genius. 
— Determined  to  Get  an  Education. — Goes  to  the  South  as  a  Teacher. — Change  of  Pursuits — Be 
friended  by  General  Greene's  Widow. — Amateur  Inventive  Efforts. — Low  State  of  Southern  In 
dustry. — Objection  to  Cotton-Raising. — 
Mrs.  Greene's  Apt  Suggestion  — Whit 
ney's  Characteristic  Resolve. — Secret  and 
Persevering  Toil. — Exciting  Rumors  as 
to  His  Purpose. — Great  Expectations  En 
tertained.  —  Triumphant  Success.  —  En 
thusiasm  of  the  Cotton-Growers. — His 
Machine  Stolen  from  Him. — Infringe 
ments  upon  His  Patent. — Law-Suits,  but 

_  MI. — His  Pathetic  Let- 

I  :  [IHMHIil  !     ter  to    Fulton.— He   Invents  a  Valuable 

FMBBH  Firearm.— Southern  Strides  in  Wealth. 


"  What  Peter  the  Great  did  to  make  Russia  dominant, 
Eli  Whitney's  invention  of  the  Cotton-Gin  ha»  more  than 
equaled  in  its  relation  to  the  progress  and  power  of  the 
United  Stales."— LORD  MACAULAY. 


RESULTS  OF  THE  COTTON-GIN. 


EYOND  all  doubt  or  question,  the 
invention  of  the  cotton-gin,  just  at 
the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
was  an  event  which  most  wonder 
fully  accelerated  the  high  career  of 
the  United  States,  in  an  industrial  point  of  view,  and,  indeed,  revolutionized,  by  an 
extraordinary  impetus,  the  manufactures  and  commerce  of  the  world.  It  may  be  re 
garded,  in  a  word,  as  the  first  key  which  was  applied  to  the  unlocking  of  those  won 
drous  natural  capabilities  of  the  new-born  republic,  the  continued  development  of 
which  has  given  her  such  a  foremost  place,  in  respect  to  material  and  political 
power,  among  the  nations  of  the  earth.  So  direct  is  its  identity  with  the  facts  and 
causes  which  have  led  to  the  country's  prodigious  progress  during  the  hundred  years 
of  its  national  history,  that  he  who  would  trace  to  their  primary  source— with  even 
ordinary  philosophical  acuteness  of  judgment  —  those  momentous  events,  whether 
material,  political,  militarj-,  or  social,  which  have  distinguished  the  greater  part  of 
that  century,  may  well  pause  longest  and  take  his  latitude  at  this  point.  Such,  in 
deed,  is  the  great  national  consequence  accorded  by  historians  to  this  machine,  that,  of 


154 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


the  thousands  upon  thousands  of  inven 
tions  and  discoveries  recorded  in  the 
patent  office  at  Washington,  many  of 
them,  of  course,  of  almost  incalculable 
value,  only  some  half  a  dozen,  or  less, 
are  comprised  in  the  '  chronology  of 
important  dates,'  ia  the  New  American 
Cyclopedia, — that  marvelous  portrayal  of 
man  and  civilization  during  the  known 
ages.  First  among  the  triumphs  of  Amer 
ican  ingenuity  thus  made  conspicuously 
historical,  is  the  invention  and  introduc 
tion  of  the  cotton-gin,  in  1793,  which  is 
the  subject  of  this  article.  That  it  should 
have  a  place  among  the  few  of  its  kind 
capable  of  coming  within  the  plan  and 
scope  of  this  volume,  will  be  at  once  ap 
parent. 

Before  entering  into  the  more  elaborate 
details  pertaining  to  this  remarkable  ma 
chine  and  its  bearing  upon  American 
industry  and  commerce,  it  may  be  useful 
to  give,  in  the  first  place,  a  sketch  in  brief 
of  the  career  of  Eli  Whitney,  whoce  genius 
gave  to  his  country,  and  to  mankind,  this 
great  boon.  At  an  early  age,  he  gave  in 
dications  of  that  mechanical  and  inventive 
talent,  for  which  he  was  afterwards  so 
greatly  celebrated.  His  father  was  a 
farmer  in  Westborough,  Massachusetts,  a 
village  where  only  the  ordinary  advantages 
of  a  common-school  education  were  availa 
ble.  But  Mr.  Whitney  was  desirous  of 
the  benefits  of  a  more  complete  course  of 
instruction,  and  at  the  age  of  twenty-three 
entered  the  college  in  New  Haven.  He 
received  the  honors  of  this  institution  in 
1792,  and  soon  after  went  to  Georgia,  in 
the  expectation  of  opening  a  private 
school,  and  devoting  himself  to  that  profes 
sion.  In  this  expectation  he  was  disap 
pointed,  for,  on  arriving  at  the  place  of  his 
destination,  he  was  informed  that  another 
tutor  was  already  filling  the  station  he  ex 
pected  to  occupy. 

Having  traveled  from  the  north,  to  Sa 
vannah,  in  company  with  Mrs.  Greene,  the 
widow  of  the  revolutionary  general  and 
hero  of  that  name,  he  received  from  that 
lady  a  courteous  invitation  to  make  her 
house  his  home,  while  engaged  in  his 


course  of  studies  preparatory  to  entering 
the  legal  profession.  This  most  favorable 
offer,  so  timely  in  view  of  his  shattered 
health  and  scanty  means,  he  grate-fully 
availed  himself  of. 

It  was  on  the  occasion  of  a  social  gath 
ering  of  some  neighbors  and  others,  one 
afternoon,  at  the  residence  of  Mrs.  Greene, 
— a  party  including  several  planters  of 
distinction,  a  few  of  whom  had  served  as 
officers  under  General  Greene's  command, 
— that  Whitney  first  resolved  to  rouse  his 
genius  to  its  utmost  accomplishment. 
Among  other  remarks  made  by  the  gentle 
men  present,  on  the  occasion  referred  to, 
was  one  in  regard  to  the  depressed  condi 
tion  of  the  agricultural  interests  of  Geor 
gia,  namely,  that  since  all  the  lands  in 
that  region,  not  suitable  for  the  cultivation 
of  rice,  were  eminently  favorable  for  the 
production  of  heavy  cotton-crops,  it  was 
exceedingly  to  be  regretted  that  no  means 
existed  of  cleansing  the  green  seed-cotton, 
or  of  separating  it  from  its  seed,  in  a 
manner  sufficiently  thorough  to  make  it 
profitable, — it  being  almost  useless,  in  the 
absence  of  such  a  method  or  contrivance, 
to  undertake  to  grow  cotton-crops  for  sale, 
because  only  a  pound  of  this  green  seed- 
cotton  could  be  cleaned  and  made  mer 
chantable,  per  day,  by  a  single  laborer, 
and  the  price  obtainable  for  it,  when  thus 
prepared,  was  but  a  few  cents  per  pound. 

In  response  to  these  suggestions,  Mrs. 
Greene,  with  true  womanly  perceptions, 
and  knowing  Whitney's  ingenious  turn  of 
mind  in  the  sphere  of  mechanics,  naively 
remarked,  "  Well,  gentlemen,  apply  to  my 
young  friend,  Mr.  Whitney, — he  can  make 
anything;"  and,  suiting  the  action  to  the 
word,  she  led  them  into  the  room  where 
her  tambour  or  embroidery-frame  was 
kept,  together  with  some  other  ingenious 
contrivances,  and  exhibited  them  to  the 
company  as  evidences  of  Whitney's  sin 
gular  skill.  On  being  introduced  to  these 
gentlemen,  and  entering  into  conversation 
with  them  on  the  subject,  Mr.  Whitney 
was  obliged  to  inform  them  that  he  had 
never  seen  cotton  nor  cotton-seed  in  his 
life! 


156 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


In  a  few  months,  he  had  advanced  so 
far  and  so  successfully  with  his  machine, 
as  to  leave  no  doubt  of  his  having  achieved 
a  complete  triumph.  In  acknowledgment 
of  Mrs.  Greene's  many  and  valued  atten 
tions  to  him  during  his  labors,  and  her 
steadfast  interest  in  his  fortunes,  the  grat 
ifying  privilege  was  accorded  her,  on  a 
day  duly  appointed,  of  exhibiting  to  an 
invited  assembly  of  guests,  principally 
planters,  a  model  of  the  saw-gin  that  was 
to  produce  such  a  mighty  change.  Their 
astonishment  was  almost  unbounded, 
when,  on  examining  the  principle  and 
working  of  the  instrument,  they  found 
that  more  cotton  could  be  separated  from 
the  seed  in  one  day  by  the  labor  of  a  single 
hand,  than  could  be  done,  in  the  usual 
manner,  in  many  months.  Enthusiasm 
over  such  a  result,  and  in  view  of  such  a 
prospect,  was  ver}'  natural. 

The  report  of  Mr.  Whitney's  invention 
spread  very  rapidly  throughout  the  South, 
exciting  intense  interest,  and  the  planters 
in  especial  were  eager  to  see  a  machine 
that  promised  such  incalculable  benefits  to 
themselves  and  to  the  nation.  For  a  time, 
however,  Whitney  declined  showing  the 
gin,  as  it  was  not  entirely  perfected,  and 
because  it  might  be  imitated  by  others, 
and  he  be  deprived  in  that  way  of  his 
right  to  a  patent.  But,  so  great  was  the 
excitement  to  which  the  people  had  been 
wrought  up,  and  so  tempting  was  the 
chance  which  presented  itself  to  the  un 
principled,  to  appropriate  to  themselves 
the  fruits  of  other  men's  toils,  that  the 
building  in  which  Whitney  carried  on  his 
labors  was  actually  broken  into,  one  night, 
by  a  party  of  lawless  individuals,  and  the 
instrument  secretly  carried  off.  Thus  it 
was  that  several  machines  were  constructed 
on  the  basis  of  Whitney's  invention,  and 
indeed  varying  but  little  from  the  original, 
though  it  was  artfully  attempted  to  have 
the  deviation  sufficiently  obvious  to  escape 
the  penalties  of  imitation. 

It  may  well  be  supposed  that  the  vari 
ous  lawsuits  growing  out  of  the  infringe 
ments  upon  his  rights,  was  an  exhausting 
draft  upon  Mr.  Whitney's  funds.  But,  in 


addition  to  this  drawback  upon  his  enter 
prise,  there  befell  him  the  successive 
calamities  of  prolonged  sickness,  the 
destruction  of  his  manufacturing  estab 
lishment  by  fire,  and,  worse  than  all,  the 
assertion  on  the  part  of  certain  unfriendly 
persons,  that  the  use  of  the  machine  ought 
to  be  abandoned,  because  it  greatly  in 
jured  the  fiber  of  the  cotton.  The  testi 
mony  of  some  of  the  British  manufacturers 
was  industriously  circulated,  to  the  effect 
that  the  old  roller-gin,  which  ground  the 
seed  to  impalpability,  was  preferable  to 
that  which  separated  the  seed  from  the 
staple,  at  the  sacrifice  of  its  quality!  And 
here  it  may  be  of  interest  to  state,  that,  in 
order  to  overcome  the  difficulty  of  separat 
ing  the  seed  from  the  wool  by  hand,  a 
rude  hand-mill,  or  roller-gin,  was  at  an 
early  period  substituted,  in  some  parts  of 
India  and  China,  by  which  from  forty  to 
sixt}'-five  pounds  could  be  cleaned  in  a 
day.  After  this,  the  cotton  was  further 
cleaned  from  dirt  and  knots  by  'bowing.' 
A  large  bow  being  placed  in  a  heap  of 
cotton,  the  string  was  made  to  vibrate  pow 
erfully,  thus  dispersing  and  cleaning  the 
heap.  These  means,  employed  from  re 
mote  times  in  eastern  countries,  were  also 
formerly  used  by  American  growers. 
Much  of  the  sea-island  cotton  is  still  sepa 
rated  from  its  seeds  by  rollers  constructed 
on  a  large  scale,  and  worked  by  horses, 
steam,  or  water.  These  rollers  are  of 
wood,  and  revolve  rapidly  in  contact  with 
each  other ;  as  they  do  so,  a  sort  of  comb 
with  iron  teeth  acts  on  the  cotton  as  it 
passes  between  them,  and  detaches  the 
seeds,  which  fly  off  like  sparks  in  all  direc 
tions.  Particles  of  seeds  which  escape  and 
pass  through  with  the  cotton,  are  removed 
by  hand.  The  cotton  is  then  whisked 
about  in  a  light  wheel,  and,  when  well 
winnowed,  it  is  conveyed  to  the  packing 
house,  and  forced  into  bags  by  means  of 
screws,  until  each  bag  contains  the  requi 
site  number  of  pounds.  But  short-stapled 
cotton  cannot  be  properly  cleaned  by  this 
process  ;  the  seeds  are  so  firmly  attached 
to  the  wool,  that  a  more  powerful  machine 
is  needed, — and  here  the  utilty  of  the  saw- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


157 


<jin  over  the  roller-contrivance  is  manifest. 
The  cotton  is  put  into  a  long  and  narrow 
hopper,  one  side  of  which  is  formed  by  a 
grating  of  strong  parallel  wires,  one-eighth 
of  an  inch  apart.  Close  to  the  hopper  is  a 
roller  set  with  circular  saws,  an  inch  and  a 
half  apart.  These,  as  they  revolve,  pass 
within  the  grating  of  the  hopper  to  a  cer 
tain  depth,  and  seize  by  their  teeth  on  the 
locks  of  cotton,  dragging  them  through  the 
wires,  which  are  not  wide  enough  apart  to 
allow  the  seeds  to  pass  also.  The  cotton 
is  afterwards  swept  from  the  saws  by  a 
revolving  cylindrical  brush.  Thus  the 
separation  is  effected  in  a  cheap,  easy,  and 
rapid  manner.  At  first,  Whitney  used 
bent  wires  or  teeth,  like  those  of  the 
common  card,  but  much  larger  and 
stronger,  and  these  were  placed  in  rows  on 
a  revolving  cylinder.  The  cotton  was 
separated  from  this  cylinder  by  a  frame  of 
parallel  wires ;  as  the  cylinder  revolved, 
the  teeth  extending  through  the  wire 
frame  caught  the  cotton  and  drew  it 
through  the  grating,  but  the  seeds  being 
too  large  to  pass  between  the  wires,  were 
of  course  separated  from  the  fiber.  These 
teeth,  however,  being  found  too  weak  to 
pull  the  cotton  from  the  seed  without  be 
coming  bent  or  broken,  Whitney  substi 
tuted  a  circular  saw  in  their  place.  The 
teeth  of  the  saw  being  large,  and  shaped 
like  the  beak  of  a  bird,  had  more  strength 
and  were  equalty  effective. 

So  serious  an  objection  as  that  brought 
by  the  British  manufacturers,  namely,  that 
the  operation  of  this  machine  injured  the 
quality  of  the  cotton,  was  a  most  disheart 
ening  one  to  Mr.  Whitney  and  his  part-  j 
ner,  Mr.  Miller,  for,  on  its  truth  or  falsity,  j 
their  fortune  and  fate  depended.  For  a  I 
time,  the  process  of  patent  ginning  was 
quite  at  a  stand  ;  and,  indeed,  little  was 
heard  of  it  by  the  originators,  except  the 
condolence  of  a  few  real  friends,  who  ex 
pressed  their  regret  that  so  promising  an 
invention  had  entirely  failed.  Of  the  in 
ventor's  state  of  mind,  as  well  as  the  con 
dition  of  his  purse,  at  this  time,  some  idea 
may  be  formed  from  a  letter  written  by 
Whitney,  in  the  autumn  of  1797,  in  which 


he  saj's:  'The  extreme  embarrassments 
which  have  for  a  long  time  been  accumu 
lating  upon  me  are  now  become  so  great 
that  it  will  be  impossible  for  me  to  strug 
gle  against  them  many  days  longer.  It 
has  required  my  utmost  exertions  to  exist, 


without  making  the  least  progress  in  our 
business.  I  have  labored  hard  against  the 
strong  current  of  disappointment,  which 
has  been  threatening  to  carry  us  down  the 
cataract ;  but  I  have  labored  with  a  shat 
tered  oar,  and  struggled  in  vain,  unless 
some  speedy  relief  is  obtained.  Life  is 
but  short,  at  best,  and  six  or  seven  j'ears 
out  of  the  midst  of  it  is,  to  him  who  makes 
it,  an  immense  sacrifice.  My  most  un re 
mitted  attention  has  been  directed  to  our 
business.  I  have  sacrificed  to  it  other 
objects,  from  which,  before  this  time,  I 
might  certainly  have  gained  twenty  or 
thirty  thousand  dollars.  My  whole  pros 
pects  have  been  embarked  in  it,  witli  the 
expectation  that  I  should,  before  this  time, 
have  realized  something  from  it.'  Against 
all  opposition,  the  machine  finally  became 
appreciated  according  to  its  merits,  and, 
though  the  country  was  flooded  with  imi 
tations, — against  the  manufacturers  of 
which,  it  seemed  almost  impossible  to 
obtain  any  redress  or  protection  in  the 
courts  of  law, — a  large  demand  set  in,  and 


158 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Whitney's  golden  visions  appeared  likely 
to  be  realized. 

At  the  suggestion  made  to  them  by 
some  of  their  business  friends,  Miller  and 
Whitney  were  induced,  in  view  of  the 
public  benefit  that  would  accrue  to  the 
cotton-growing  states,  by  the  general  and 
inexpensive  introduction  of  the  saw-gin,  to 
offer  the  exclusive  disposal  of  the  machine 
in  South  Carolina  to  the  legislature  of 
that  state,  which  offer  was  finally  accepted  ; 
the  sum  paid  to  the  inventors,  for  this 
privilege,  being  fifty  thousand  dollars. 
Though  this  sum  was  only  one-half  of  that 
which  had  originally  been  fixed  upon  by 
the  patentees,  it  seems  to  have  given  quite 
a  zest  to  Mr.  Whitney's  feelings  and  an 
ticipations,  for  he  wrote  in  relation  to  the 
new  arrangement :  '  The  use  of  the  machine 
here  (in  South  Carolina)  is  amazingly  ex 
tensive,  and  the  value  of  it  beyond  all 
calculation.  It  may,  without  exaggera 
tion,  be  said  to  have  raised  the  value  of 
•even-eighths  of  all  the  three  southern 
states  from  fifty  to  one  hundred  per  cent. 
We  get  but  a  song  for  it  in  comparison 
with  the  worth  of  the  tiling;  but  it  is  se 
curing  something.  It  will  enable  Miller 
and  Whitney  to  pay  all  their  debts,  and 
divide  something  between  them.  It  es 
tablishes  a  precedent  that  will  be  valuable 
as  respects  our  collections  in  other  states, 
and  I  think  there  is  now  a  fair  prospect 
that  I  shall  in  the  event  realize  property 
enough  to  render  me  comfortable,  and,  in 
some  measure,  independent.'  It  was  not, 
however,  without  much  trouble  and  litiga 
tion,  that  Whitney  realized  the  fulfillment 
of  this  contract. 

But  the  expense  involved  in  numerous 
suits  at  law  against  the  encroachers  upon 
his  patent,  was  more  than  the  profits 
yielded  by  the  sales,  and  these  struggles 
and  expenditures,  and  constantly-recurring 
discouragements,  sent  Mr.  Miller  to  a  pre 
mature  grave,  at  the  close  of  1803.  In  the 
year  1812,  Mr.  Whitney  applied  to  con 
gress  for  a  renewal  of  his  patent,  in  the 
hope  of  still  receiving  some  substantial 
benefit  from  his  invention.  But  the 
southern  delegation  generally  —  though 


with  some  honorable  exceptions — were  op 
posed  to  it ;  which  was  of  course  the  more 
unexpected,  as  well  as  wounding,  in  view 
of  the  immense  advantage  of  the  machine 
to  that  part  of  the  United  States.  In 
regard  to  this  last-mentioned  point,  no  tes 
timony  could  be  more  weighty  or  emphatic 
in  the  affirmative  than  that  by  Judge 
Johnson,  an  eminent  South  Carolinian, 
and,  at  the  time  of  speaking,  a  judge  of 
the  United  States  supreme  court : — '  The 
whole  interior  of  the  southern  states  (these 
are  the  words  of  Judge  Johnson,  as  judi 
cially  uttered)  was  languishing,  and  its 
inhabitants  emigrating  for  want  of  some 
object  to  engage  their  attention,  and  em 
ploy  their  industry,  when  the  invention  of 
this  machine  at  once  opened  views  to  them 
which  set  the  whole  country  in  active 
motion.  From  childhood  to  age,  it  has 
presented  to  us  a  lucrative  employment. 
Individuals  who  were  depressed  with  pov 
erty,  and  sunk  in  idleness,  have  suddenly 
risen  to  wealth  and  respectability.  Our 
debts  have  been  paid  off.  Our  capitals 
have  increased,  and  our  lands  trebled 
themselves  in  value.  We  cannot  express 
the  weight  of  the  obligation  which  the 
country  owes  to  this  invention.  The  ex 
tent  of  it  cannot  now  be  seen.  Some  faint 
presentiment  may  be  formed  from  the  re 
flection  that  cotton  is  rapidly  supplanting 
wool,  flax,  silk,  and  even  furs,  in  manufac 
tures,  and  may  one  day  profitably  supply 
the  use  of  specie  in  our  East  India  trade. 
Our  sister  states  also  participate  in  the 
benefits  of  this  invention;  for,  beside  af 
fording  the  raw  material  for  their  manu 
facturers,  the  bulkiness  and  quantity  of 
the  article  afford  a  valuable  employment 
for  their  shipping.' 

Such  was  the  testimony  borne  by  the 
highest  possible  authority,  in  regard  to 
the  wonderful  value  and  effect  of  this  in 
vention.  And  yet,  though  full  a  dozen 
years  had  elapsed  since  Whitney  had 
staked  his  all  upon  the  machine,  and  was 
even  now  pleading  for  redress  against  the 
piracies  committed  upon  his  rights  and 
] trope rty,  he  was  actually  a  poor  many 
struggling  against  remorseless  fate.  Mr. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


159 


Whitney,  in  a  letter  almost  pathetic  in  its 
rehearsal  of  his  wrongs,  addressed  to 
Robert  Fulton,  the  inventor  of  the  first 
successful  steamboat,  remarks,  that  'the 
difficulties  with  which  he  had  to  contend 
originated,  principally,  in  the  want  of  a 
disposition  in  mankind  to  do  justice.  The 
invention  was  new  and  distinct  from  every 
other ;  it  stood  alone.  It  was  not  inter 
woven  with  anything  before  known;  and 
it  can  seldom  happen  that  an  invention  is 
so  strongly  marked,  and  can  be  so  clearly 
and  specifically  identified ;  and  I  have 
always  believed  that  I  should  have  had  no 
difficulty  in  causing  my  rights  to  be  re 
spected,  if  it  had  been  less  valuable,  and 
been  used  only  by  a  small  portion  of  the 
community.  But  the  use  of  this  machine 
being  immensely  profitable  to  almost  every 
planter  in  the  cotton  districts,  all  were  in 
terested  in  trespassing  upon  the  patent 
right,  and  each  kept  the  other  in  counte 
nance.  Demagogues  made  themselves 
poplilar  by  misrepresentation  and  un 
founded  clamors,  both  against  the  right, 
and  the  law  made  for  its  protection. 
Hence  there  arose  associations  and  combi 
nations  to  oppose  both.  At  one  time,  few 
men  in  Georgia  dared  to  come  into  court 
and  testify  to  the  most  simple  facts  within 
their  knowledge,  relative  to  the  use  of  the 
machine.  In  one  instance,  I  had  great 


difficulty  in  proving  that  the  machine  had 
been  used  in  Georgia,  although,  at  the 
same  moment,  there  were  three  separate 
sets  of  this  machinery  in  motion  within 
fifty  yards  of  the  building  in  which  the 
court  sat,  and  all  so  near  that  the  rattling 
of  the  wheels  was  distinctly  heard  on  the 
steps  of  the  court-house.'  Surely,  few 
men  of  genius  have  rendered  so  great  ben 
efits  to  their  country,  by  means  of  an  in 
vention,  who  have  been  so  heartlessly 
treated  and  so  poorly  remunerated.  De 
spairing  of  ever  realizing  an  adequate 
return,  therefore,  for  his  cotton-gin,  Whit 
ney  applied  his  inventive  skill  to  the  im 
proved  manufacture  of  firearms,  in  which 
he  was  very  successful,  and,  having  ob 
tained  valuable  contracts  from  the  govern 
ment  for  his  improved  muskets,  he 
ultimately  acquired  a  fortune, — a  strange 
but  most  deserved  sequel  to  his  hitherto 
checkered  career. 

The  progress  and  value  of  the  cotton 
production  in  the  United  States,  under  the 
impetus  given  to  it  by  Whitney's  inven 
tion,  may  be  characterized  as  simply 
prodigious  ;  and,  in  the  mind  of  the  philo 
sophic  statesman  and  student,  the  story  of 
the  cotton-gin  will  forever  weave  itself, 
most  intimately  and  wonderfully,  with 
those  great  themes  and  events  which  make 
up  the  nation's  history. 


XIV. 

THE   FAMOUS    WHISKEY    INSURRECTION   IN   PENNSYL 
VANIA.—  1794. 


Violent  Resistance  to  the  United  States  Excise  Laws. — Monster  Meetings  and  Inflammatory  Appeals 
— Officials  and  Loyal  Citizens  Whipped,  Branded,  Tarred,  and  Feathered. — Intense  Excitement  in  all 
the  States. — Washington  Declares  that  the  Union  is  in  Peril  and  Heads  an  Army  to  Meet  the  Crisis. 
— Precipitate  Flight  of  the  Armed  Rebels. — Congressional  Tax  on  Spirits. — Cry  of  "  Tyranny  !  "  from 
Distillers. — Western  Pennsylvania  in  a  Blaze. — Extent  of  her  Whiskey  Interests. — Ambitious  Politi 
cians  at  Work. — A  Revolt  Incited  by  Them. — Bradford  the  Chief  Desperado. — Reign  of  Terror 
Inaugurated. — Tax-Collectors  Roughly  Handled — The  Incendiary's  Torch. — "Tom  the  Tinker's" 
Ruffianism — Fury  of  the  Factionists — Firm  Courage  of  Loyal  Men. — Perplexity  of  the  United  States 
Government. — Presidential  Proclamation. — Law  and  Order  to  be  Maintained. — Troops  Summoned 
into  Service. — Prompt  and  Patriotic  Response  — The  Olive  Branch  vs.  the  Sword. — Bradford  Scorns 
Conciliation. — Washington's  Mind  Made  Up. — Prevents  the  Effusion  of  Blood. 


"  llcre'i  to  your  fery  pool  health, 
And  Umn  ta  wh.uky  duty  !  "— SONO  or  THE  TIMES. 


HE  year  1794  is  distinguished  in  American  history  by  a  remark 
able  revolt  among  a  portion  of  the  inhabitants  of  Pennsylvania, 
and  which  is  known  as  the  Whiskey  Insurrection.  In 
1791,  congress  had  enacted  laws  laying  excise  duties  upon 
spirits  distilled  within  the  United  States.  This  tax  excited 
great  and  general  opposition,  but  nowhere  else  was  such  vio 
lence  exhibited  in  resisting  the  execution  of  the  law,  as  in  the 
western  counties  of  Pennsylvania,  where  the  crops  of  grain 
were  so  over-abundant,  that,  in  the  absence  of  an  adequate 
market  for  its  sale,  an  immense  quantity  of  the  cereal  was 
distilled  into  whiskey, — the  far-famed  "  Monongahela,"  so 
called  from  the  name  of  the  principal  river  of  the  region  where 
the  manufacture  was  carried  on.  It  was  insisted  upon,  by 
these  people,  that  an  article  produced  so  exclusively,  by  an 
isolated  community,  as  their  sole  and  necessary  dependence, 
ought  not  to  be  taxed  for  the  support  of  the  federal  government;  and  this  opinion 
they  adhered  to  —  as  the  following  pages  will  be  found  to  show  —  with  a  tenacity 
worthy  of  a  better  cause,  notwithstanding  the  day  of  temperance  societies  had  not 
then  dawned. 

Public  meetings  were  held   in  all  the  chief  towns,  at  which  the  action  of  congress 
was   loudly  denounced  as  dppressicn  to  be  battled  against  to  the  very  last  extremity; 


CAUSES  OF  THE  WHISKEY   IN 
SURRECTION   IN   PENN. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


161 


declaring,  too,  that  any 
person  who  had  accepted 
or  might  accept  an  office 
under  government,  in  or 
der  to  carry  the  law  into 
effect,  should  be  regarded 
as  an  enemy  of  his  country, 
to  be  treated  with  contempt 
and  total  non-intercourse, 
official  and  personal.  The 
federal  government  was 
scoffed  at,  its  coercive 
authority  disavowed;  thus, 
with  the  motto,  "Liberty 
and  No  Excise!"  the  ball 
of  rebellion  rolled  on. 

It  was  at  this  stage  in 
the  progress  of  affairs,  and 
2  only  one  day  preceding  the 
£  assembling  of  an  import- 
>  ant    meeting    of    malcon- 

*  tents   of    Pittsburg,    that 

-  the  tax  collector  for    the 
~  counties  of  Allegany  and 

1/1  ~  Washington  made  his  ap- 
|  pearance.  Aware  of  his 
t  business,  a  party  of  men, 
~  armed  and  disguised,  way- 
S  laid  him  at  a  place  on 
||;A|  «j  S  z  Pigeon  Creek,  inWashing- 

//'>  V/Y  fl   V     fc 

f  ton  county,  seized,  tarred 
c  and  feathered  him,  cut  off 
<  his  hair,  and  deprived  him 
of  his  horse,  obliging  him 
to  decamp  on  foot  in  that 
ludicrous  and  painful  con 
dition.  In  attempting  to 
serve  legal  processes  upon 
theperpetratorsof  thisout- 
rage,  the  marshal's  deputy 
was  also  seized,  whipped, 
tarred  and  feathered;  and, 
after  havi ng  his  mono}'  and 
horse  taken  from  him,  the 
ruffians  blindfoldednnd  led 
him  into  the  depths  of  the 
forest,  where  he  was  tied 
and  left  to  his  fate.  He 
was  fortunately  discovered 
in  season,  and  rescued,  by 
some  friends. 


162 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Not  long  after,  a  person  of  the  name  of 
Roseberry  underwent  the  humiliating  pun 
ishment  of  tarring  and  feathering,  with 
some  attendant  aggravations,  for  having 
in  conversation  hazarded  the  very  natural 
and  just,  but  unpalatable  remark,  that  the 
inhabitants  of  a  county  could  not  reasona 
bly  expect  protection  from  a  government 
whose  laws  they  so  strenuously  opposed. 
So  great,  too,  was  the  audacity  of  the  per 
petrators  of  these  outrages,  that  an  armed 
banditti  of  them  ventured  to  seize  and 
carry  off  two  persons  who  were  witnesses 
against  the  rioters  in  the  case  of  Wilson, 
in  order  to  prevent  their  giving  testimony 
in  a  court  then  sitting,  or  about  to  sit. 

Ou  the  part  of  the  executive,  such  open 
defiance  of  the  laws,  and  of  the  authority 
of  the  government,  was  believed  to  imperi 
ously  require  that  the  strength  and  effi 
ciency  of  those  laws  should  be  tried,  by 
the  governing  power.  Accordingly,  Wash 
ington  issued  his  proclamation,  emphati 
cally  condemning  the  lawless  acts  and  pro 
ceedings,  warning  all  to  return  at  once  to 
their  allegiance,  and  assuring  them  that 
the  laws  should  be  executed  at  any  hazard. 
Against  the  leaders  in  some  of  the  out 
rages  which  had  been  committed,  bills  of 
indictment  were  found  in  a  court  of  the 
United  States,  upon  which  process  was 
directed  to  issue,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
process  was  also  issued  against  a  great 
number  of  non-complying  distiller?. 

This  proclamation  not  producing  the 
desired  effect,  President  Washington  next 
endeavored  to  prevent  the  necessity  of 
having  recourse  to  active  military  meas 
ures,  by  making  it  the  interest  of  the  dis 
tillers  to  pay  the  duty.  To  this  end,  in 
addition  to  the  prosecutions  instituted 
against  delinquents,  the  spirits  distilled  in 
the  counties  opposing  the  law  were  ordered 
to  be  seized  on  their  way  to  market,  by 
the  officers  of  the  revenue,  and  the  con 
tractors  for  the  arm}'  were  directed  to 
purchase  only  the  spirits  on  which  the 
duties  had  been  paid.  But,  whatever  were 
the  inclinations  of  the  distillers — or  some 
of  them, — the  fear  of  an  infuriated  popu 
lace  prevented  a  compliance  with  these 


orders;  and  the  factionists  continued  to 
take  encouragement  from  the  lenity  of  the 
executive,  in  the  expectation  of  ultimate 
success.  By  violent  threats  they  still 
kept  the  marshal  from  serving  his  precepts, 
committed  numerous  outrages  upon  the 
friends  of  government,  and  perfected  their 
organization  into  military  bands,  to  resist 
any  force  that  might  be  sent  to  subject 
them  to  the  laws.  They  styled  their  acts, 
"  mending  the  still." 

It  is  not  to  be  doubted  that  this  inflamed 
state  of  the  public  mind  was  greatly  ag 
gravated  by  the  ambitious  de-signs  and 
intemperate  speeches  of  a  few  leading 
men.  Conspicuous  among  the  friends  of 
the  malcontents  were  Bradford,  Marshall, 
Sinilie,  Brackenridge,  Husbands,  Findley, 
and  Gallatin.  The  first-named,  David 
Bradford,  was  the  chief  agitator,  and  led 
in  person  the  desperate  bands,  in  their 
career  of  violence.  He  was  an  old  settler 
in  Washington  county,  had  accumulated  a 
large  fortune,  and,  being  bold  and  unscru 
pulous  in  his  politics,  wielded  a  powerful 
influence  over  a  certain  class.  Those  asso 
ciated  with  him  were  men  of  decided  abil 
ity,  being  of  Scotch  or  Irish  birth,  and 
possessing  their  dominant  characteristics 
of  nationality. 

In  the  early  part  of  1794,  the  hostility 
of  the  law-breakers  seemed  to  become  more 
implacable  and  demonstrative.  William 
Richmond,  who  had  given  information 
against  some  of  the  rioters,  in  the  affair 
of  Wilson,  had  his  barn  burnt,  with  all  its 
valuable  contents;  and  the  same  thing 
happened  to  Robert  Shawan,  a  distiller, 
who  had  been  among  the  first  to  comply 
with  the  law,  and  who  had  alwaj'S  spoken 
favorably  of  it.  These  instances  were 
multiplied.  The  law-abiding  inhabitants 
were  dogged  and  pursued  by  disorderly 
persons,  their  houses  and  distilleries 
broken  into,  property  destroyed,  conflagra 
tions  kindled,  machinery  disabled,  life 
threatened. 

June  being  the  month  for  receiving  an 
nual  entries  for  stills,  endeavors  were  used 
to  open  offices  in  Westmoreland  and 
Washington,  where  it  had  hitherto  been 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


163 


found  impracticable.  With  much  pains 
and  difficulty,  places  were  at  last  procured 
for  the  purpose. 

That  in  Westmoreland  was  repeatedly 
attacked  by  armed  men,  in  the  night,  who 
frequently  fired  upon  it ;  but  it  was  de 
fended  with  so  much  determination  and 
perseverance,  as  to  have  been  maintained 
during  the  remainder  of  the  month.  That 
in  Washington,  after  repeated  attempts, 
was  suppressed. 

Charging  himself  with  the  service  of  the 
processes  officially  intrusted  to  him,  the 
marshal  repaired  in  person  to  the  country 
which  was  the  scene  of  these  disorders. 
He  continued  unmolested  in  the  perform 
ance  of  this  duty,  until,  being  seen  in 
company  with  General  John  Neville,  in 
spector  of  the  county  and  a  zealous  advo 
cate  of  the  tax,  they  were  assaulted  on  the 
road  by  a  body  of  armed  men,  who  fired, 
but  without  doing  any  injury.  Early  the 
next  morning,  a  party  attacked  the  house 
of  General  Neville,  the  inspector,  but  he 
defended  himself  bravely  and  successfully. 

Apprehending,  however,  that  the  busi 
ness  would  not  terminate  here,  Neville 
made  application  by  letter  to  the  judges, 
generals  of  militia,  and  sheriff  of  the 
county,  for  protection.  A  reply  to  his 
application,  from  John  Wilkins,  Jr.,  and 
John  Gibson,  magistrates  and  militia-offi 
cers,  informed  him  that  the  laws  could  not 
be  executed,  so  as  to  afford  him  the  pro 
tection  to  which  he  was  entitled,  owing  to 
the  too  general  combination  of  the  people 
in  that  part  of  Pennsylvania  to  oppose  the 
revenue  law  ;  adding,  that  they  would  take 
every  step  in  their  power  to  bring  the 
rioters  to  justice,  and  would  be  glad  to 
receive  information  relative  to  the  individ 
uals  concerned  in  the  attack  on  his  house, 
that  prosecutions  might  be  commenced 
against  them — at  the  same  time  expressing 
regret  that,  should  the  citizens  of  the 
county  be  ordered  out,  in  support  of  the 
civil  authority,  very  few  could  be  gotten 
who  were  not  of  the  party  of  the  rioters. 

The  day  following,  the  insurgents  re 
assembled  with  a  considerable  augmenta 
tion  of  numbers,  amounting  to  at  least 


five  hundred,  and,  on  the  seventeenth  of 
July,  renewed  their  attack  upon  the  house 
of  the  inspector,  who,  in  the  interval,  had 
taken  the  precaution  of  calling  to  his  aid 
a  small  detachment  from  the  garrison  of 
Fort  Pitt,  which,  at  the  time  of  the  attack, 
consisted  of  eleven  men,  who  had  been 
joined  by  Major  Abraham  Kirkpatrick,  a 
friend  and  connection  of  the  inspector. 
The  leader  of  the  insurgents  was  a  despe 
rado  named  John  Holcroft,  or  "  Tom  the 
Tinker,"  as  he  was  familiarly  called. 

There  being  scarcely  a  prospect  of  ef 
fectual  defense  against  so  large  a  number 
as  then  appeared,  and  as  the  inspector  had 
everything  to  apprehend  for  his  person,  if 
taken,  it  was  judged  advisable  that  he 
should  withdraw  from  the  house  to  a  place 
of  concealment ;  Major  Kirkpatrick  gen 
erously  agreeing  to  remain  with  the  eleven, 
intending,  if  practicable,  to  make  a  capit 
ulation  in  favor  of  the  property,  or,  if  un 
successful,  to  defend  it  as  long  as  possible. 

A  parley  took  place,  under  cover  of  a 
flag,  which  was  sent  by  the  insurgents  to 
the  house,  with  a  demand  that  the  inspec 
tor  should  come  forth,  renounce  his  office, 
and  stipulate  never  again  to  accept  an 
office  under  the  same  laws.  To  this  it  was 
replied,  that  the  inspector  had  left  the 
house  upon  their  first  approach,  and  that 
the  place  to  which  he  had  retired  was  un 
known.  They  then  declared  that  they 
must  have  whatever  related  to  his  office; 
to  which,  answer  was  made  they  might 
send  persons,  not  exceeding  six,  to  search 
the  house,  and  take  away  whatever  papers 
they  could  find,  pertaining  to  the  office. 
But,  not  satisfied  with  this,  they  insisted, 
unconditionally,  that  the  armed  men  who 
were  in  the  house  for  its  defense,  should 
march  out  and  ground  their  arms.  Major 
Kirkpatrick  peremptorily  refused,  consid 
ering  it  and  representing  it  to  them  as  a 
proof  of  a  design  to  destroy  the  property; 
and  this  refusal  put  an  end  to  the  parley. 

Brisk  firing  now  took  place  between  the 
insurgents  and  the  party  in  the  house, 
lasting  for  about  an  hour,  till  the  assail 
ants,  having  set  fire  to  the  neighboring 
and  adjacent  buildings,  eight  in  number, 


1C4 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


the  intensencss  of  the  heat,  and  the  danger 
of  an  immediate  communication  of  iire 
to  the  house,  obliged  the  brave  Kirkpat- 
riek  and  his  small  party  to  come  out  and 
surrender  themselves. 

Desirous  of  ascertaining  their  full 
strength,  and  also  to  discover  any  secret 
enemies  that  might  remain  unsuspected  in 
the  midst  of  these  treasonable  movements, 
Bradford  and  his  comrades  proceeded  with 
a  high  and  unsparing  hand.  Monster 
meetings  of  friends  and  sympathizers  were 


DAVID  BRADFORD. 


appointed,  to  determine  the  first  question; 
and,  to  obtain  satisfaction  in  regard  to  the 
second,  the  mail  between  Pittsburg  and 
Philadelphia  was  stopped  by  armed  men, 
who  cut  it  open,  and  took  out  the  letters 
which  it  contained.  In  some  of  these 
letters,  a  direct  disapprobation  of  the  vio 
lent  measures  which  had  been  adopted 
was  openly  avowed.  Upon  .acquiring  thus 
the  names  of  their  opponents,  messengers 
were  sent  to  Pittsburg,  where  the  writers 
of  the  offensive  letters  resided,  demanding 
the  banishment  of  the  offenders.  A 
prompt  obedience  to  these  demands  was 
unavoidable.  Another  plan  was,  for  seiz 
ing  the  United  States  military  stores  at 
Pittsburg,  and  using  them  in  carrying  on 
the  revolt.  In  order  to  accomplish  this,  a 
mammoth  gathering  of  the  anarchists  was 
appointed  to  be  held  on  Braddock's  field, 
August  first.  This  call  was  made  in  the 
form  usual  for  militia  musters,  and  all 
were  notified  to  come  armed  and  equipped. 
Seven  thousand  men  answered  to  this  calf, 
and  Bradford,  assuming  the  office  of  major- 
general,  reviewed  the  dense  mass  of  troops. 
The  main  purpose,  however,  of  this  assem 
blage,  namely,  to  march  upon  Pittsburg, 


take  possession  of  Fort  Pitt  and  the 
United  States  arsenal,  and  then  form  an 
independent  state,  or  sovereignty,  com 
posed  of  the  counties  west  of  the  Alleghany 
range,  had  been  divulged  to  few,  and, 
upon  farther  consultation,  it  was  found 
that  the  desperation  of  some  of  the  leaders 
failed  them  at  this  point,  and  the  project 
was  abandoned.  But  it  was  determined  to 
march  to  Pittsburg  at  any  rate, — a  march 
that  was  attended  by  a  wholesale  intimi 
dation  of  the  disaffected,  the  robbing  of 
houses,  and  the  burning  of  buildings.  But 
the  greatest  popular  demonstration  made 
of  the  law-breakers'  strength,  was  the 
meeting  at  Parkinson's  Ferry,  where  there 
assembled  representatives  of  the  whole 
vast  region  in  insurrection,  and,  in  the 
mad  enthusiasm  of  the  hour,  pledged  them 
selves  to  follow,  sixteen  thousand  strong, 
under  the  banner  of  Bradford,  in  resisting 
and  overturning  the  government.  There 
were  at  this  meeting  many  able  men,  but 
the  attendant  throng  was  of  a  far  different 
class. 

The  president  had  now,  for  three  j'ears, 
patiently  awaited  the  effect  of  conciliatory 
measures,  but  these  had  only  continued  to 
render  the  opposition  more  desperate.  He 
therefore  had  only  to  choose  between  the 
alternative  of  permitting  the  prostration 
of  the  government,  or  to  call  out  its  force 
in  support  of  the  laws.  It  was  not  in  the 
nature  of  Washington  to  allow  the  former. 

The  subject,  in  all  its  momentous  con 
sequences,  was  laid  by  President  Wash 
ington  before  the  cabinet,  for  final  action, 
and  General  Mifilin,  the  governor  of  Penn 
sylvania,  was  on  this  occasion  called  into 
the  council.  Their  unanimous  desire  was 
to  avoid,  if  possible,  a  resort  to  arms  and 
bloodshed,  and  they  therefore  advised  that 
commissioners  should  be  sent  to  the  insur 
gents  to  warn  them  of  their  danger,  and  to 
offer  a  pardon  of  past  offenses,  on  condi 
tion  of  future  obedience  to  the  laws.  It 
was  also  advised  that  a  proclamation 
should  be  issued,  in  conformity  to  the  act 
of  congress,  commanding  the  insurgents 
to  disperse  by  a  given  day.  All  agreed 
that  a  crisis  had  arrived  which  was  testing 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


165 


the  strength  and  practicability  of  republi 
can  institutions. 

The  president  did  not  hesitate  to  do  his 
duty.  He  could  no  longer  see  the  laws 
prostrated,  and  the  authority  of  the  United 
States  defied,  without  exerting  the  means 
of  prevention.  He  resolved,  therefore,  to 
issue  the  proclamation,  which,  by  law,  was 
to  precede  the  employment  of  force.  This 
proclamation,  issued  August  seventh,  con 
tained  a  brief  but  distinct  recapitulation 
of  the  measures  which  had  been  adopted 
by  the  government,  as  well  as  the  pro 
ceedings  on  the  part  of  the  insurgents,  and 
the  preparatory  steps  which  had  been 
taken  to  authorize  the  executive  to  employ 
coercion  —  and  which,  though  with  the 
deepest  regret,  he  had  determined  to  do, 
in  the  interests  of  national  preservation 
and  social  order ;  and  commanding  all 
persons  being  in  the  position  of  insurgents, 
and  all  others  whom  it  might  concern,  on 
or  before  the  first  day  of  the  ensuing 
month  of  September,  to  disperse  and  re 
tire  peaceably  to  their  homes. 

On  the  same  day  of  this  proclamation, 
a  requisition  was  made  on  the  governors 
of  Xew  Jersey,  Pennsylvania,  Maryland, 
and  Virginia,  for  their  several  quotas  of 
militia  to  compose  an  army  of  twelve  or 
fifteen  thousand  men,  who  were  to  be  im 
mediately  organized  and  prepared  to  march 
at  a  minute's  warning. 

While  the  necessary  steps  were  being 
taken  to  bring  this  force  into  the  field,  a 
last  attempt  was  made  to  render  its  em 
ployment  unnecessary.  To  this  end,  the 
attorney-general  of  the  United  States,  who 
was  also  a  citizen  of  Pennsylvania,  to 
gether  with  Judge  Yates,  of  the  superior 
court,  and  Senator  Ross  of  Pennsylvania, 
who  was  particularly  popular  in  the  west 
ern  section,  were  deputed  by  the  govern 
ment  to  be  the  bearers  of  a  general 
amnesty  for  past  offenses,  on  the  sole  con 
dition  of  future  obedience  to  the  laws. 

It  having  been  deemed  advisable  that 
the  executive  of  the  state  in  which  the 
insurrection  was  rampant  should  act  in 
concert  with  that  of  the  United  States,  a 
proclamation,  similar  in  tone  and  spirit  to 


that  of  the  president,  was  now  issued  by 
Governor  Mifflin,  and  commissioners  were 
appointed  by  him  to  unite  with  those  of 
the  general  government. 

But  Bradford,  whose  sway  over  his  fol 
lowers  was  well  nigh  despotic,  inspiring 
them  with  slavish  terror,  laughed  at  the 
government  proclamation  and  measures, 
claimed  that  he  could  marshal  an  army 
that  would  scatter  the  federal  force  to  the 
four  winds,  and,  under  the  banner  of 
"  Liberty  and  No  Excise — No  Asylum  for 
Cowards  and  Traitors!"  the  insurgent 
spirit  waxed  fiercer  and  more  bold.  At 
tempts  were  made  to  embark  the  adjacent 
counties  of  Virginia  in  their  cause,  and 
their  violence  was  extended  to  Morgan- 
town,  at  which  place  an  inspector  resided, 
who  only  saved  himself  by  flight,  and  pro 
tected  his  property  by  advertising,  on  his 
own  door,  that  he  had  resigned  his  office. 
Similar  excursions  were  made  into  the 
eastern  counties  of  Pennsylvania. 

The  great  convention  of  malcontents  at 
Parkinson's  Ferry  had,  under  the  advice 
of  Brackenridge,  Marshall,  Gallatin,  and 
some  others,  appointed  a  committee  of 
safety,  of  sixty  members,  who  chose  fifteen 
of  their  body  to  confer  with  the  commis 
sioners  of  the  United  States,  and  of  Penn 
sylvania.  This  committee  was  to  receive 
proposals,  but  neither  offer  nor  accept 
terms  of  settlement. 

In  their  report  of  the  conference  thus 
held,  the  committee  expressed  themselves 
in  favor  of  accepting  the  accommodation 
offered  by  the  government.  But,  though 
many  of  the  insurgents,  trembling  at  the 
extent  of  the  conflagration  they  had  kin 
dled,  were  now  disposed  to  yield,  a  vast 
number  still  continued,  under  Bradford's 
fiery  lead,  to  go  on  in  their  revolutionary 
violence,  and  so  the  last  door  to  reconcilia 
tion  was  shut.  Meanwhile,  the  president's 
call  for  troops  was  being  responded  to  in 
overwhelming  numbers,  under  the  patriotic 
lead  of  Governor  Mifflin. 

The  president  issued  a  second  proclama 
tion,  September  25,  describing  in  terms  of 
great  energy  the  obstinate  and  perverse 
spirit  with  which  the  government's  lenient 


166 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


propositions  had  been  received,  and  de 
claring  his  fixed  determination,  in  virtue 
of  the  high  and  imperative  duty  imposed 
upon  him  by  the  constitution  to  "take care 
that  the  laws  be  faithfully  executed"  to 
reduce  the  refractory  to  obedience. 

On  every  side,  the  signals  of  war  were 
now  displayed !  The  troops  of  New  Jersey 
and  Pennsylvania  were  directed  to  ren 
dezvous  at  Bedford,  and  those  of  Maryland 
and  Virginia  at  Cumberland,  on  the  Poto 
mac.  The  command  of  the  expedition  was 
given  to  General  Henry  Lee,  of  Virginia; 
and  the  governors  of  New  Jersey  and 
Pennsylvania  commanded,  under  him,  the 
militia  of  their  respective  states.  The 
president,  in  person,  pushed  on  for  Phila 
delphia,  through  deep  roads  and  a  three 
days'  drenching  rain,  visiting,  as  com- 
mander-in-chief,  each  of  the  t\vo  grand 
divisions  into  which  he  had  divided  the 
forces.  He  had  intended  to  continue  to 
lead  the  army  solely  himself ;  but,  ascer 
taining  that  this  would  not  be  called  for, 
and  feeling  confident  that  the  force  em 
ployed  must  break  down  all  resistance,  he 
left  General  Hamilton,  as  his  deputj', 
giving  directions  to  Lee  to  inarch  each 


division  across  the  Alleghany  mountains, 
meet  on  the  other  side,  and  act  against  the 
insurgents  as  circumstances  might  require. 
But,  as  had  been  sagaciously  foreseen,  the 


GEN.  HENRY   LEE. 


greatness  of  the  force  pi-evented  the  effu 
sion  of  blood.  The  rebellious  hordes  fled 
before  such  a  demonstration,  the  clemency 
of  the  government  was  solicited,  and  sub 
mission  to  every  law  freely  promised. 
Some  of  the  more  evil  disposed  were  ar 
rested  and  tried,  but  pardon  was  ultimately 
extended  to  all.  Bradford  escaped  to 
Spanish  territory.  And  thus,  in  the 
words  of  Washington,  was  decided  "the 
contest,  whether  a  small  proportion  of  the 
United  States  shall  dictate  to  the  whole 
Union." 


XV. 

FOUNDING  AND    ESTABLISHMENT   OF   THE   NATIONAL 

CAPITAL.— 1799. 


Bitter  Sectional  Contest  in  Deciding  the  Location. — First  "Compromise"  in  Congress  between  the 
North  and  the  South. — Final  Kemoval  of  the  Government  and  its  Archives  to  Washington  — Official 
Observance  of  the  Event. — Magnificent  Site  and  Plan  of  the  City. — Splendor  of  its  Public  Build 
ings. — Congress  First  Sits  in  Philadelphia. — Need  of  a  Permanent  Capital  — National  Dignity  Involved. 
—  Violent  Agitation  of  the  Subject. — Philadelphia  and  New  York  Proposed. — They  are  Objected  toby 
the  South  — Northern  Disunion  Threats  — Schemes  of  Conciliation. — IIo\v  the  Question  was  Settled. 
— Sweetening  Two  Bitter  Pills. — Jefferson's  Graphic  Account. — General  Washington's  Preference. — 
His  Site  on  the  Potomac  Adopted. — Some  Hather  Personal  Anecdotes. — Work  of  Laying  Out  the  City. 
— Its  Original  Aspect  and  Condition  — Early  Tiials  of  the  President's  Wife. — Construction  of  the  Cap 
itol. — Its  Corner-Stone  Laid  by  Washington. — Congress  in  its  New  Halls. — Growth  of  the  Metropolis. 
— The  New  Corner-Stone  of  1851. 


"  Where  peeped  the  hnt  the  palace  tnwern  : 
Where  akimmed  the  hark  the  war-thip  lowers  j 
Joy  gaily  carol*  where  was  dilence  rmle  ; 
And  cultured  thuueandu  throug  the  solitude. 


EXT  in  importance  to  the  founding  of  a  free  and  independent 
nationality,  and  the  inauguration  of  a  supreme  legislative  and 
executive  government,  was  the  act  of  establishing  a  permanent 
capital, —  one  on  a  scale,  and  of  a  character,  commensurate  with 
the  dignity  and  prospects  of  the  new  republic.  Indeed,  from  as  early  a  period  as  June, 
1783,  when  congress  was  virtually  driven  from  its  halls  in  Philadelphia  by  the  mutiny 
of  a  part  of  the  Pennsylvania  line,  the  necessity  was  very  evident  of  some  place  being 
fixed  upon  where  the  government  of  the  Union  might  at  least  be  secure  from  violence 
and  insult.  As  this  remarkable  and  untoward  circumstance  was,  perhaps,  one  of  the 
most  notable  in  its  bearing  upon  subsequent  events,  in  this  connection,  it  may  be  worth 
while  to  recite  some  of  its  chief  features.  While  the  patriot  army,  encamped  under 
the  eye  of  Washington,  bore  their  hardships  and  privations  without  flinching,  and,  at 
the  close  of  the  struggle,  in  1783,  returned  quietly,  though  poor  and  unpaid,  to  their 
homes,  some  of  the  newly-recruited  soldiers  of  Pennsylvania,  stationed  at  Lancaster, 
suddenly  mutinied  and  set  off  in  a  bod}'  for  Philadelphia,  to  demand  redress  of  fancied 
grievances  from  the  legislature  of  the  state.  Arriving  at  that  city,  they  were  joined 
by  a  force  from  the  barracks,  and  proceeded  on  the  second  of  June  with  beat  of  drum 
and  fixed  bayonets  to  the  state  house,  where  congress  and  the  supreme  execiitivc  council 
of  Pennsylvania  were  both  holding  their  sessions.  After  placing  sentinels  at  all  the 
doors,  they  sent  in  a  written  message,  threatening  the  president  and  the  council  of  the 
state  to  let  loose  an  enraged  soldiery  upon  them,  if  their  demands  were  not  acceded  to 
in  twenty  minutes.  Although  the  resentments  of  this  banditti  were  not  directed  par- 


168 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-187G. 


ticularly  against  congress,  the  government 
of  the  Union  was  grossly  insulted,  and 
those  who  administered  it  were  blockaded 
for  several  hours  in  the  discharge  of  their 
duties,  by  an  armed  band.  Fearing  lest 
the  authorities  of  Pennsylvania  might  not 
be  able  to  furnish  adequate  protection,  it 
adjourned  to  meet  within  a  few  days  at 
Princeton, — sending  information,  in  the 
meantime,  to  Washington,  of  this  outbreak. 
The  latter  immediately  sent  fifteen  hun 
dred  men  under  General  Howe  to  suppress 
the  mutiny;  but  before  the  detachment 
could  reach  Philadelphia,  the  mutiny  was 
in  a  great  degree  subdued,  and  fortunately 
without  bloodshed. 

When  once  the  subject  of  definitely 
fixing  upon  a  location  for  the  seat  of  gov 
ernment  was  before  congress  and  the 
people,  the  question  seemed  to  overshadow 
all  others.  Being  in  session  at  Princeton, 
under  the  circumstances  above  narrated,  it 
was  resolved  by  congress  that  a  building 
for  the  national  legislature  be  erected  near 
the  Falls  of  the  Delaware. 

The  commissioners  to  lay  out  a  town  on 
the  Delaware  reported  their  proceedings 
to  congress,  but  no  further  steps  were 
taken  to  carry  the  resolution  into  effect. 
Some  were  very  strenuous  for  New  York, 
others  proposed  some  convenient  place  on 
the  banks  of  the  Susquehanna.  To  the 
latter  proposition,  southern  members, 
among  whom  was  Mr.  Madison,  were  un 
alterably  opposed.  All  admitted  the  im 
portance  of  the  step  to  be  taken,  involving, 
perhaps,  the  perpetuity  of  the  government 
itself. 

At  length,  a  compact  respecting  the 
temporary  and  permanent  seat  of  govern 
ment  was  entered  into  between  the  friends 
of  Philadelphia,  and  the  Potomac,  whereby 
it  was  stipulated  that  congress  should 
hold  its  sessions  in  Philadelphia,  for  ten 
years,  during  which  time,  buildings  for 
the  accommodation  of  the  government 
should  be  erected  at  some  place,  to  be  se 
lected,  on  the  Potomac,  and  which  latter 
should  become,  on  the  expiration  of  the 
ten  years,  the  permanent  capital  of  the 
nation.  This  compromise  having  united 


the  representatives  of  Pennsylvania  and 
Delaware  with  the  friends  of  the  Potomac, 
in  favor  both  of  the  temporary  and  perma 
nent  locality  which  had  been  mutually 
agreed  on  between  them,  a  majority  was 
thus  finally  secured  in  favor  of  the  project, 
and  a  bill  which  was  brought  into  iho 
senate  in  conformity  with  this  arrange 
ment,  passed  both  houses  by  small  major 
ities,  though,  according  to  Judge  Marshall, 
these  majorities  would  have  been  larger, 
if  necessary. 

But,  as  the  final  compromise  briefly  re 
corded  above  shows,  the  die  was  cast,  at 
last,  to  mutual  satisfaction.  How  this  was 
brought  about,  Jefferson's  graphic,  and, 
it  may  be,  highly-colored  portraiture  of  the 
closing  hour  and  result  of  the  struggle  will 
give  some  idea:  'The  eastern  members 
particularly,  who,  with  Smith  from  South 
Carolina,  were  the  principal  gamblers  in 
these  scenes,  threatened  secession  and  dis 
solution.  Hamilton  was  in  despair.  As 
I  was  going  to  the  president's,  one  da}',  I 
met  him  in  the  street.  He  walked  me 
backwards  and  forwards  before  the  presi 
dent's  door  for  half  an  hour.  He  painted 
pathetically  the  temper  into  which  the 
legislature  had  been  wrought ;  the  disgust 
of  those  who  were  called  the  creditor 
states;  the  danger  of  the  secession  of  their 
members,  and  the  ceparation  of  the  states. 
He  observed  that  the  members  of  the  ad 
ministration  ought  to  act  in  concert ;  that 
though  this  question  was  not  of  my  de 
partment,  yet  a  common  duty  should  make 
it  a  common  concern ;  that  the  president 
was  the  center  011  which  all  administration 
questions  ultimately  rested,  and  that  all  of 
us  should  rally  around  him,  and  support, 
with  joint  efforts,  measures  approved  by 
him ;  and  that  the  question  having  been 
lost  by  a  small  majority  only,  it  was  prob 
able  that  an  appeal  from  me  to  the  judg 
ment  and  discretion  of  some  of  my  friends, 
might  effect  a  change  in  the  vote,  and  the 
machine  of  government,  now  suspended, 
might  be  again  set  into  motion.  I  told  him 
that  I  was  really  a  stranger  to  the  whole 
subject;  that  not  having  yet  informed  my 
self  of  the  system  of  finance  adopted,  I 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


1C9 


knew  not  how  far  this  was  a  necessary  se 
quence  ;  that  undoubtedly,  if  its  rejection 
endangered  a  dissolution  of  our  Union  at 
this  incipient  stage,  I  should  deem  that 
the  most  unfortunate  of  all  consequences, 
to  avert  which  all  partial  and  temporary 
evils  should  be  yielded.  I  proposed  to 
him,  however,  to  dine  with  me  the  next 
dav,  and  I  would  invite  another  friend  or 
two,  bring  them  into  conference  together, 
and  I  thought  it  impossible  that  reasona 
ble  men,  consulting  together  coolly,  could 
fail,  by  some  mutual  sacrifices  of  opinion, 
to  form  a  compromise  which  was  to  save 
the  Union.  The  discussion  took  place.  I 
could  take  no  part  in  it  but  an  exhortatory 
one,  because  I  was  a  stranger  to  the  cir 
cumstances  which  should  govern  it.  But 
it  w:is  finally  agreed,  that  whatever  im 
portance  had  been  attached  to  the  rejection 
of  this  proposition,  the  preservation  of  the 
Union  and  of  concord  among  the  states, 
was  more  important,  and  that,  therefore, 
it  would  be  better  that  the  vote  of  rejec 
tion  should  be  rescinded,  to  effect  which 
some  members  should  change  their  votes. 
But  it  was  observed  that  this  pill  would  be 
peculiarly  bitter  to  the  southern  states, 
and  that  some  concomitant  measure  should 
be  adopted  to  sweeten  it  a  little  to  them. 
There  had  before  been  projects  to  fix  the 
seat  of  government  either  at  Philadelphia, 
or  sit  Georgetown  on  the  Potomac ;  and  it 
was  thought  that,  by  giving  it  to  Phila 
delphia  for  ten  years,  and  to  Georgetown 
permanently  afterwards,  this  might,  as  an 
anodyne,  calm  in  some  degree  the  ferment 
which  might  be  excited  by  the  other  meas 
ure  alone.  So  two  of  the  Potomac  mem 
bers  (White  and  Lee,  but  White  with  a 
revulsion  of  stomach  almost  convulsive) 
agreed  to  change  their  votes,  and  Hamilton 
undertook  to  carry  the  other  point.  In 
doing  this,  the  influence  he  had  established 
over  the  eastern  members,  with  the  agency 
of  Robert  Morris  with  those  of  the  middle 
states,  effected  his  side  of  the  engagement.' 
Thus  it  was  that  the  assumption-bill  was 
passed,  and  thus  it  was  that  the  far  more 
important  measure  was  enacted,  which 
provided — 


"  That  a  district  of  territory  on  the 
river  Potomac,  at  some  place  between  the 
mouths  of  the  eastern  branch  and  the 
Connogocheague,  be,  and  the  same  is 
hereby,  accepted,  for  the  permanent  seat 
of  the  government  of  the  United  States." 
In  enduring  honor  of  the  father  of  his 
country,  the  name  given  to  the  projected 
city  was  WASHINGTON. 

From  the  beginning,  General  Washing 
ton  advocated  the  site  which  was  finally 
fixed  upon,  and  its  establishment  there 
was  due  in  a  large  measure  to  his  counsels 
and  influence.  It  is  related,  though  some 
what  questionable,  that  during  the  hot  and 
angry  discussion  on  the  subject,  in  con 
gress,  pending  the  determination  of  a 
locality,  a  person  who  was  in  company 
with  Washington  remarked,  one  day, — 

"  I  know  very  well  where  the  federal 
city  ought  to  be." 

"  Where  then  would  you  put  it,  sir  ? " 
was  the  serene  inquiry  of  Washington. 

"  It  ought  to  be  located  in  Philadelphia," 
was  the  reply. 

"  Why  are  you  sure  it  should  be  there  ?  " 

"  For  the  most  satisfactory  of  all  rea 
sons,"  was  the  sinister  answer  ;  ''  because 
nearly  the  whole  of  my  property  lies  there 
and  in  the  neighborhood." 

In  stern  silence  did  Washington  fasten 
his  eye  upon  the  man  who  thus  dared  the 
insolent  insinuation  that  the  president 
favored  the  location  of  the  capital  in  its 
present  site  because  it  was  near  his  Mount 
Vernon  estates ;  and  the  offender  soon 
vanished  out  of  sight. 

Another  little  anecdote  in  this  connec 
tion  will  be  here  given,  as  showing  that 
"  no  sea  is  free  from  ripples."  It  was  for 
man}-  }*ears  traditional  in  the  federal  capi 
tal,  that  one  man  was  found  not  awed  by 
the  presence  of  the  great  founder  of  that 
city.  While  the  president  was  procuring 
the  ground  which  was  to  be  the  seat  of 
government,  he  had  but  little  difficulty  in 
obtaining  the  necessary  releases,  except  in 
one  instance.  Mr.  James  Byrnes  was  the 
owner  of  a  lot  or  tract  which  it  was  advis 
able  should  be  included  in  the  plan.  The 
general  had  various  conferences  with  Mr. 


170 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


Byrnes,  who  was  especially  obstinate,  and, 
highly  prizing,  as  he  did,  the  tract  in  ques 
tion,  flatly  resisted  all  the  reasonings  and 
persuasions  of  the  great  man.  Unused  to 
opposition,  Washington  at  last  turned 
upon  him  and  said,  as  only  he  could  say 

it,— 

"Mr.  James  Ityrnes  !  what  would  your 
land  have  heen  worth  if  I  had  not  placed 
this  city  on  the  Potomac  ?  " 

Byrnes  was  not  at  all  crushed  by  this 
peculiar  flanking  argument  on  the  part  of 
the  general;  but,  undismayed,  coolly 
turned  to  him  and  said, — 

"George  Washington,  what  would  you 
have  been  worth  if  you  had  not  married 
the  widow  Custis  ?  " 

It  will  not  do  to  judge  of  the  nation's 
metropolis  at  that  day  by  what  it  is  now. 
At  that  time  it  was  desolate  in  the  ex 
treme,  with  its  long  unimproved  avenues 
and  streets,  its  deep  morasses,  and  its  vast 
area  covered  with  trees  instead  of  houses. 
Mrs.  Adams,  the  wife  of  President  John 
Adams,  who  first  occupied  the  White 
House,  in  writing  to  a  friend  regarding 
the  city  and  the  presidential  mansion  at 
that  period,  says :  'In  the  city  are  build 
ings  enough,  if  they  were  compact  and 
finished,  to  accommodate  congress  and 
those  attached  to  it,  but  as  they  are,  I  see 
no  great  comfort  in  them.  The  river, 
which  runs  up  to  Alexandria,  is  in  full 
view  of  my  window,  and  I  can  see  the 
vessels  as  they  pass  and  re-pass.  The 
house  is  upon  a  grand  and  superb  scale, 
requiring  about  thirty  servants  to  attend 
and  keep  the  apartments  in  proper  order, 
and  perform  the  ordinary  business  of  the 
house  and  stables ;  an  establishment  very 
well  proportioned  to  the  president's  salary. 
The  lighting  the  apartments,  from  the 
kitchen  to  the  parlors  and  chambers,  is  a 
tax  indeed;  and  the  fires  we  are  obliged 
to  keep,  to  secure  us  from  daily  agues,  is 
another  very  cheering  comfort.  To  assist 
us  in  this  great  castle,  and  render  less  at 
tendance  necessary,  bells  are  wholly  want 
ing,  not  one  being  hung  through  the 
whole  house,  and  promises  are  all  we  can 
obtain.  This  is  so  great  an  inconvenience 


that  I  know  not  what  to  do,  or  how  to  do. 
If  they  will  put  me  up  some  bells,  and  let 
me  have  wood  enough  to  keep  fires,  1  de 
sign  to  be  pleased.  I  could  content  my 
self  anywhere  three  months,  but  sur 
rounded  by  forests,  can  you  believe  that 
wood  is  not  to  be  had,  because  people  can 
not  be  found  to  cut  and  cart  it  ?  Briesler 
entered  into  a  contract  with  a  man  to 
supply  him  with  wood.  A  small  part,  a 
few  cords  only,  has  he  been  able  to  get. 
Most  of  that  was  expended  to  dry  the  walls 
of  the  house  before  we  came  in,  and  yes 
terday  the  man  told  him  it  was  impossible 
for  him  to  procure  it  to  be  cut  and  carted. 
He  has  had  recourse  to  coals;  but  we  can 
not  get  grates  made  and  set.  We  have 
indeed  come  into  a  new  country.'  These 
and  kindred  inconveniences  were  naturally 
incident  to  the  new  order  of  things;  they 
were  only  temporary. 

As  has  already  appeared,  it  was  reserved 
to  Washington's  immediate  successor  in 
the  presidential  office,  to  be  the  first  occu 
pant  of  the  executive  mansion.  Neverthe 
less,  the  superintending  mind  and  hand  of 
Washington  are  broadly  identified  with 
the  conception  not  only  of  that  elegant 
building,  but  of  the  capitol  and  other  gov 
ernment  structures.  On  the  fifteenth  day 
of  April,  1791,  the  Hon.  Daniel  Carroll 
and  Dr.  David  Stewart  superintended  the 
fixing  of  the  first  corner-stone  of  the  Dis 
trict  of  Columbia,  at  Jones's  Point,  near 
Alexandria;  it  was  laid  with  all  the  usual 
masonic  ceremonies,  an  address  being  also 
delivered  on  the  occasion  by  Rev.  James 
Muir.  "  May  this  stone,"  said  the  orator, 
"  long  commemorate  the  goodness  of  God 
in  those  uncommon  events  which  have 
given  America  a  name  among  nations. 
Under  this  stone  may  jealousy  and  selfish 
ness  be  forever  buried.  From  this  stone 
may  a  superstructure  arise  whose  glory, 
whose  magnificence,  whose  stability,  shall 
astonish  the  world."  The  south-east 
corner-stone  of  the  capitol  was  laid  by 
President  Washington,  September  eight 
eenth,  1793,  with  appropriate  services, 
principal  among  which  was  the  act  of  the 
commissioners,  in  their  official  capacity, 


GKEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


171 


WASHINGTON,  D.   C.,   IN  1876. 


when  they  delivered  to  President  Wash 
ington,  who  deposited  it  in  the  stone,  a 
silver  plate,  inscribed  as  follows  : — 

"  This  south-east  corner-stone  of  the 
Capitol  of  the  United  States  of  America, 
in  the  city  of  Washington,  was  laid  on  the 
18th  day  of  September,  1793,  in  the  eight 
eenth  year  of  American  Independence,  in 
the  first  year  of  the  second  term  of  the 
presidency  of  George  Washington,  whose 
virtues  in  the  civil  administration  of  his 
country  have  been  as  conspicuous  and 
beneficial  as  his  military  valor  and  pru 
dence  have  been  useful  in  establishing  her 
liberties,  and  in  the  year  of  Masonry  5793, 
by  the  President  of  the  United  States,  in 
concert  with  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Mary 
land,  several  lodges  under  its  jurisdiction, 
and  Lodge  No.  22  from  Alexandria,  Vir 
ginia." 

In  the  summer  of  1800,  the  archives  of 
the  government  were  removed  from  Phila 
delphia  to  Washington,  and,  the  ensuing 
November,  the  north  wing  of  the  capitol 
was  ready  for  the  first  sitting  of  congress 
in  the  new  metropolis.  John  Cotton 


Smith,  a  distinguished  member  of  this  con 
gress  from  Connecticut,  speaking  of  the 
new  city  on  his  arrival  there,  says:  'I 
can  not  sufficiently  express  my  admiration 
of  its  local  position.' 

It  was  at  this  session  that  formal  recog 
nition  was  made  of  the  great  national 
event  of  the  founding  and  establishment 
of  the  national  capital,  by  mutual  congrat 
ulatory  addresses  between  the  chief  mag 
istrate  of  the  republic  on  the  one  part,  and 
the  senate  and  house  of  representatives  on 
the  other. 

A  more  beautiful  site  for  a  large  city 
could  scarcely  have  been  selected.  On  a 
level  plain  some  three  miles  in  length,  and 
varying  from  a  quarter  to  two  miles  wide, 
and  extending  from  the  banks  of  the 
Potomac  to  a  range  of  hills  bounding 
the  plain  on  the  east,  the  new  city  was 
laid  out.  The  idea  of  General  Washington 
was  that  the  capitol  should  be  the  center 
of  the  cit}',  and  that  avenues  should  radi 
ate  from  it  at  equi-distant  points.  To 
complete  his  plan,  the  metropolis  should 
have  a  million  of  inhabitants,  instead  of 


172 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


its  present  very  moderate  fraction  of  that 
number.  Though  not  a  seven-hilled  city, 
Washington  has,  as  well  as  Rome,  its  Ca- 
pitoline  Hill,  commanding  views  scarcely 


NATIONAL  CAPITOL  IX   1876. 

less  striking  than  those  of  the  Eternal 
City.  The  general  altitude  of  the  city- 
plot  is  forty  feet  above  the  river,  but  this 
is  diversified  by  irregular  elevations,  which 
serve  to  give  variety  and  commanding 
sites  for  the  public  buildings.  The  plot  is 
slightly  amphitheatrical,  the  president's 
house  on  the  west  standing  on  one  of 
the  sides,  and  the  capitol  on  the  other, 
while  the  space  between  verges  towards  a 
point  near  the  river.  The  president's 
house  and  the  capitol  stand  centrally  with 
regard  to  the  whole,  though  situated  at 
the  distance  of  one  mile  from  each  other, 
the  former  forty-four  feet  above  the  Poto 
mac,  and  the  latter  seventy-two  feet.  All 
the  public  buildings  are  on  a  scale  of  mag 
nificence  worthy  of  a  great  nation  ;  and 
the  munificence  of  congress  in  this  respect, 
as  well  as  in  regard  to  all  that  pertains  to 
the  city,  as  the  seat  of  government  of  the 
United  States,  is  evident  on  every  side. 
This  is  as  it  should  be,  and  betokens  the 
destined  splendor,  in  point  of  architecture, 
avenues  and  parks,  institutions  of  art, 
science  and  education,  of  the  federal  cap 
ital. 

Starting  from  the  capitol,  the  streets 
run  from  north  to  south  and  from  east  to 
west,  their  width  varying  from  ninety  to 
one  hundred  and  ten  feet.  There  are  be 
side  twenty  avenues,  named  after  the 


older  states  of  the  Union,  which  cross  the 
streets  at  various  angles  and  connect  the 
most  important  points  of  the  city,  forming 
at  their  intersection  with  the  streets  and 
with  each  other  numerous  open 

^  spaces.  These  grand  avenues  are 
from  one  hundred  and  thirty  to 
one  hundred  and  sixty  feet  uni 
form  width  ;  the  principal  of  these 
is  called  in  honor  of  the  state  of 
Pennsylvania,  and  extends  from 
Georgetown  to  the  Anacostia,  a 
distance  of  four  miles.  It  forms 
the  main  avenue  of  communication 
between  the  capitol  and  the  presi 
dent's  house  and  the  chief  offices 
of  government.  The  capitol  com 
mands  Maryland,  Delaware,  New 
Jersey,  Pennsylvania,  Maine,  and 
Missouri  avenues;  the  president's  house, 
Pennsylvania,  New  York,  Vermont,  and 
Connecticut  avenues.  The  effect  of  this 
arrangement,  taken  in  connection  with 
the  natural  advantages  of  the  site,  is 
exceedingly  fine — one  of  the  finest  in 
the  world,  for  a  city.  From  the  hill,  in 
especial,  on  which  stands  the  capitol,  the 


SYMBOLIC  STATUE   OF  AMKRIOA    8UKMOC -NTl.NU 
THE   U.   8.  CAPITOL. 

most  noble  view  presents  itself  to  the  eye 
of  the  beholder  that  the  imagination  can 
conceive.  On  the  fourth  of  July,  1851, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


173 


the  corner-stone  of  that  magnificent  ex 
tension  of  the  capitol  which  lias  rendered 
it  the  most  superb  structure  of  its  kind  in 
the  world,  was  laid  with  splendid  ceremo 
nial,  including  a  commemorative  oration 
by  President  Fillmore,  assisted  by  Daniel 
Webster,  secretary  of  state.  In  the  stone 
was  also  deposited  a  record  of  the  event, 
with  the  following  impressive  statement 
and  invocation  : — 

"  If,  therefore,  it  shall  be  hereafter  the 
will  of  God  that  this  structure  shall  fall 
from  its  base,  that  its  foundation  be  up 
turned,  and  this  deposit  brought  to  the 
eyes  of  men,  be  it  then  known  that  on 
this  day  the  union  of  the  United  States  of 
America  stands  firm,  that  their  Constitu 


tion  still  exists  unimpaired  and  with  all 
its  original  usefulness  and  glory,  growing 
every  day  stronger  and  stronger  in  the 
affections  of  the  great  body  of  the  Amer 
ican  people,  and  attracting  more  and  more 
the  admiration  of  the  world.  And  all 
here  assembled,  whether  belonging  to 
public  life  or  to  private  life,  with  hearts 
devoutly  thankful  to  Almighty  God  for 
the  preservation  of  the  liberty  and  happi 
ness  of  the  country,  unite  in  sincere  and 
fervent  prayer  that  this  deposit,  and  the 
walls  and  arches,  the  domes  and  towers, 
the  columns  and  entablatures,  now  to 
be  erected  over  it,  may  endure  forever ! 
GOD  SAVE  THE.  UNITED  STATES  OF 
AMERICA,  I" 


XVI. 

DEATH  OF  GEORGE  WASHINGTON.— 1799. 


His  Sudden  and  Brief  Illness,  Last  Hours,  and  Dying  Words  — Fortitude  and  Serenity  Through  all 
His  Sufferings. — He  Calmly  Announces  His  Approaching  Dissolution  Without  a  Murmur — The 
Whole  World  Does  Honor,  by  Eulogy  and  Lamentations,  to  His  Exalted  Worth  and  Immortal  Fame. 
— He  Anticipated  an  Early  Death. — His  Invariably  Good  Health  — Exposure  in  a  Snow-Storm  — 
Takes  a  Fatal  Cold. —  Last  Letter  Written  by  His  Hand — Heads  the  Paj>ers  in  the  Evening. —  Char 
acteristic  Reply  to  His  Wile. — Passes  a  Kestless  Night — Alarming  Condition  the  Next  Day. — Medi 
cal  Treatment  of  no  Avail. — Calls  tor  His  Two  Wills,  Burns  One. — Affecting  Scene  at  His  Bedside. 

— Last  Words,  "'Tis  Well!" — Only  One  Day's  Sickness. 
— Acute  Laryngitis  His  Disease. — Burial  in  the  Old  Family 
Vault — Tidings  of  His  Death. — Tributes  from  Peoples  and 
Kings — A  Man  Without  a  Parallel — Last  Page  in  His 
Journal. — Re  entombment  in  18G7. — Appearance  of  His 
Remains. 


"Posterity  will  talk  of  Wfinhineton  with  reverence,  na  (he  founder  of  a  frre«t 
empire,  when  my  name  ahull  be.  lost  in  the  vortex  of  revolution."-NAl-OL«OJI  iio- 
KATAIITE. 


ASHINGTON  is  dead!"  were  the  appalling  words  which,  with  the 
fading  out  of  the  eighteenth  century,  brought  home  to  every  American  heart  the  solemn 
lesson  of  the  flight  of  time,  and  that  "  all  men  are  mortal."  Totally  unprepared  as 
was  his  idolizing  country  for  such  an  event, — no  intelligence  of  the  slightest  illness  of 
the  great  chieftain  having  preceded  the  bald  announcement  of  his  death  and  burial, — 
the  tidings  moved  the  nation's  heart  to  profound  amazement  and  sorrow,  and  deep  an 
swered  unto  deep,  in  the  universal  wail  of  a  bereaved  and  stricken  republic.  If  a 
nation's  prayers  could  have  prevailed,  Washington — Columbia's  most  honored,  venerated, 
and  renowned  son, — would  have  been  immortal  on  earth.  But  the  ordinance  of  divine 
wisdom  is,  that  the  great  boon  of  immortality  shall  be  attained  by  man  only  through 
the  portals  of  the  grave,  and  to  this  decree  the  illustrious  and  the  humble  are  alike  sub 
ject.  Thus  it  was  that  Washington,  the  great  Christian  warrior  and  statesman — the 
greatest  of  good  men  and  the  best  of  great  men — paid  the  debt  of  nature  when  he  had 
scarcely  reached  the  allotted  period  of  three-score  years  and  ten. 

The  last  end  of  so  illustrious  a  personage  as  Washington,  is  fraught  with  an  interest 
so  profound  and  memorable,  as  never  to  lose  its  freshness  and  value  to  successive 
generations.  It  appeared  to  be  the  will  of  heaven  that,  so  soon  as  the  circum 
stances  of  his  country  enabled  it  to  dispense  with  the  services  of  the  man  who,  above 
all  others,  was  its  founder  and  leading  head,  he  should  be  summoned  away  from 
the  scenes  of  earth.  That  he  was  one  who  was  accustomed  to  consider  the  brevity  of 
life  and  the  uncertainty  of  human  affairs,  is  evident  from  the  tenor  of  his  conduct 
and  conversation,  and  from  occasional  passages  in  his  correspondence.  Thus,  to  the 
Hon.  James  M'Henry,  secretary  of  war,  lie  wrote,  but  a  few  months  prior  to  his 
decease :  "  My  greatest  anxiety  is  to  have  all  these  concerns  in  such  a  clear  and  distinct 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


175 


form,  that  no  reproach  may  attach  itself  to 
me  when  I  have  taken  my  departure  for 
the  land  of  spirits."  He  had  also  been 
making  arrangements,  just  before  the  at 
tack  of  illness  which  terminated  in  his 
death,  for  the  construction  of  an  improved 
family  tomb,  and  in  speaking  of  his  plans 
to  a  relative  at  his  side,  he  remarked, 
"  This  change,  I  shall  make  the  first  of  all, 
for  I  may  require  it  before  the  rest."  He 
had  also  been  heard  to  say,  "  I  am  of  a 
short-lived  family,  and  cannot  expect  to 
remain  very  long  upon  the  earth." 

The  month  of  December,  1799,  found 
him  in  the  enjoyment  of  excellent  health. 
Indeed,  Major  Lewis,  his  nephew,  writing 
of  him  as  he  appeared  to  himself  and  a 
friend  at  that  time,  says,  "  The  clear  and 
healthy  flush  on  his  cheek  and  his 
sprightly  manner  brought  the  remark  from 
both  of  us,  that  we  had  never  seen  the 
general  look  so  well."  On  the  tenth  of 
December,  he  completed  the  draught  of  an 
elaborate  plan  for  the  management  of  his 
lands,  laying  down  the  rotation  of  the 
crops  for  a  succession  of  j-ears  in  advance. 
The  morning  of  that  day  was  clear  and 
calm,  but  the  afternoon  was  lowering. 
The  next  day,  the  eleventh,  was  bluster 
ing  and  rainy  ;  and  at  night,  as  Washing 
ton  recorded  in  his  diary,  "there  was  a 
large  circle  round  the  moon."  The  morn 
ing  of  the  twelfth  was  overcast.  Wash 
ington's  last  letter  was  written  that 
morning — it  was  to  Hamilton,  and  princi 
pally  on  the  subject  of  a  military  academy. 
The  events  of  that  day,  and  of  the  two 
days  following,  are  most  minutely  narrated 
by  an  eye-witness — Mr.  Tobias  Lear, — 
who  was  Washington's  private  secretary 
as  well  as  valued  friend;  and  with  Mr. 
Lear's  statement,  are  incorporated  some 
facts  from  the  pen  of  Washington's  favor 
ite  kinsman,  Mr.  Ctistis  : — 

On  Thursday,  December  twelfth,  the 
general  rode  out  to  his  farms  about  ten 
o'clock,  and  did  not  return  home  till  past 
three.  Soon  after  he  went  out,  the  weather 
became  very  bad,  rain,  hail,  snow  falling 
alternately,  with  a  cold  wind.  When  he 
came  in,  I  carried  some  letters  to  him  to 


frank,  intending  to  send  them  to  the  post- 
office  in  the  evening.  He  franked  the 
letters,  but  said  the  weather  was  too  bad 
to  send  a  servant  to  the  office  that  even 
ing.  I  observed  to  him,  that  I  was  afraid 
he  had  got  wet.  He  said,  No,  his  great 
coat  had  kept  him  dry.  But  his  neck  ap 
peared  to  be  wet,  and  the  snow  was 
hanging  upon  his  hair.  He  came  to  din 
ner,  which  had  been  waiting  for  him, 
without  changing  his  dress.  In  the  even 
ing  he  appeared  as  well  as  usual. 

A  heavy  fall  of  snow  took  place  on 
Friday,  which  prevented  the  general  from 
riding  out  as  xisual.  He  had  taken  cold, 
undoubtedly  from  being  so  much  exposed 
the  day  before,  and  complained  of  a  sore 
throat.  He,  however,  went  out  in  the 
afternoon  into  the  ground  between  the 
house  and  the  river  to  mark  some  trees, 
which  were  to  be  cut  down  in  the  improve 
ment  of  that  spot.  As  was  usual  with 
him,  he  carried  his  own  compass,  noted 
his  observations,  and  marked  the  ground. 
He  had  a  hoarseness,  which  increased  in 
the  evening,  but  he  made  light  of  it. 

Between  two  and  three  o'clock,  on  Sat 
urday  morning,  December  fourteenth,  he 
awoke  Mrs.  Washington,  and  told  her  that 
he  was  very  unwell,  and  had  had  an  ague. 
She  observed  that  he  could  scarcely  speak, 


and  breathed  with  difficulty,  and  would 
have  got  up  to  call  a  servant.  But  he 
would  not  permit  her,  lest  she  should  take 
a  cold.  As  soon  as  the  day  appeared,  the 


176 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


woman  (Caroline)  went  into  the  room  to 
make  a  lire,  and  Mrs.  Washington  sent 
her  immediately  to  call  me.  I  got  up, 
put  on  my  clothes  as  quickly  as  possible, 
and  went  to  his  chamber.  Mrs.  Washing 
ton  was  then  up,  and  related  to  me  his 
being  ill  as  before  stated.  I  found  the 
general  breathing  with  di  Hit-ill  ty,  and 
hardly  able  to  utter  a  word  intelligibly. 
He  desired  Mr.  Rawlins  (one  of  the  over 
seers)  might  be  sent  for,  to  bleed  him  be 
fore  the  doctor  could  arrive.  I  dispatched 
a  servant  instantly  for  Rawlins,  and  an 
other  for  Dr.  Craik,  and  returned  again  to 
the  general's  chamber,  where  I  found  him 
in  the  same  situation  as  I  had  left  him. 

A  mixture  of  molasses,  vinegar,  and 
butter,  was  prepared,  to  try  its  effects  in 
the  throat ;  but  he  could  not  swallow  a 
drop.  Whenever  he  attempted  it,  he  ap 
peared  to  be  distressed,  convulsed,  and  al 
most  suffocated.  Rawlins  came  in  soon 
after  sunrise,  and  prepared  to  bleed  him. 
When  the  arm  was  ready,  the  general,  ob 
serving  that  Rawlins  appeared  to  be  agi 
tated,  said,  as  well  as  lie  could  speak, 
"  Don't  be  afraid.''  And  when  the  incision 
was  made,  he  observed,  "  The  orifice  is  not 
large  enough."  However,  the  blood  ran 
pretty  freely.  Mrs.  Washington,  not 
knowing  whether  bleeding  was  proper  or 
not  in  the  general's  situation,  begged  that 
much  might  not  be  taken  from  him,  lest  it 
should  be  injurious,  and  desired  me  to 
stop  it;  but,  when  I  was  about  to  untie 
the  string,  the  general  put  up  his  hand  to 
prevent  it,  and,  as  soon  as  he  could  speak, 
he  said,  "  More,  more."  Mrs.  Washing 
ton  being  still  very  uneasy,  lest  too  much 
blood  should  be  taken,  it  was  stopped  after 
taking  about  half  a  pint.  Finding  that  no 
relief  was  obtained  from  bleeding,  and 
that  nothing  would  go  down  the  throat,  I 
proposed  bathing  it  externally  with  sal 
volatile,  which  was  done,  and  in  the  opera 
tion,  which  was  with  the  hand,  and  in  the 
gentlest  manner,  he  observed,  "It  is  very 
sore."  A  piece  of  flannel  dipped  in  sal 
volatile  was  put  around  his  neck,  and  his 
feet  bathed  in  warm  water,  but  without 
affording  any  relief. 


In  the  meantime,  before  Dr.  Craik  ar 
rived,  Mrs.  Washington  desired  me  to 
send  for  Dr.  Brown,  of  Port  Tobacco, 
whom  Dr.  Craik  had  recommended  to  be 
called,  if  any  case  should  ever  occur  that 
was  seriously  alarming. 

Dr.  Dick  came  about  three  o'clock,  and 
Dr.  Brown  arrived  soon  after.  Upon  Dr. 
Dick's  seeing  the  general,  and  consulting 
a  few  minutes  with  Dr.  Craik,  he  was  bled 
again.  The  blood  came  very  slow,  was 
thick,  and  did  not  produce  any  symptoms 
of  fainting.  Dr.  Brown  came  into  the 
chamber  soon  after,  and  upon  feeling  the 
general's  pulse,  the  physicians  went  out 
together.  Dr.  Craik  returned  soon  after, 
The  general  could  now  swallow  a  little. 
Calomel  and  tartar  emetic  were  adminis 
tered,  but  without  any  effect. 

The  went  her  became  severely  cold, 
while  the  group  gathered  nearer  to  the 
couch  of  the  sufferer.  He  spoke  but  little. 
To  the  respectful  and  affectionate  inquir 
ies  of  an  old  family  servant,  as  she 
smoothed  down  his  pillow,  how  he  f<-lt 
himself,  he  answered,  "  I  am  very  ill.'' 
To  Mrs  Washington  he  said,  '•  Go  to  my 
desk,  and  in  the  private  drawer  you  will 
find  two  papers  —  bring  them  to  me." 
They  were  brought.  Upon  looking  at 
them  he  observed,  "  These  are  my  wills — 
preserve  this  one  and  burn  the  other;" 
which  was  accordingly  done. 

In  the  course  of  the  afternoon  he  ap 
peared  to  be  in  great  pain  and  distress, 
from  the  difficulty  of  breathing,  and  fre 
quently  changed  his  posture  in  the  bed. 
On  these  occasions  I  lay  upon  the  bed  and 
endeavored  to  raise  him,  and  turn  him 
wi.h  as  much  ease  as  possible  He  ap 
peared  penetrated  with  gratitude  for  my 
attentions,  and  often  said.  •'  I  am  afraid  I 
shall  fatigue  you  too  mm-li  ;"  and  upon  my 
assuring  him  that  I  could  feel  nothing  but 
a  wish  to  give  him  ease,  he  replied, 

"  Well,  it  is  a  debt  \ve  must  pay  to  each 
other,  and  I  hope,  when  you  want  aid  of 
this  kind,  you  will  find  it." 

He  asked  when  Mr.  Lewis  and  Wash 
ington  Custis  would  return.  (They  were 
then  in  New  Kent.)  I  told  him  about  the 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 

nr 


177 


DEATH  OF  WASHINGTON.   DEC.   14,   1799. 


20th  of  the  month. 
The  general's  serv 
ant,  Christopher, 
was  in  the  room  dur 
ing  the  day ;  and  in  the  afternoon,  the 
general  directed  him  to  sit  down,  as  he  had 
been  standing  almost  the  whole  day.  He 
did  so.  About  eight  o'clock  in  the  morn 
ing,  he  had  expressed  a  desire  to  get  up. 
His  clothes  were  put  on,  and  he  Avas  led  to 
a  chair  by  the  fire ;  lie  found  no  relief 
from  that  position,  and  lay  down  again 
about  ten  o'clock.  About  five  o'clock,  Dr. 
Craik  came  again  into  the  room,  and, 
upon  going  to  the  bedside,  the  general  said 
to  him, 

"  Doctor,  I  die  hard,  but  I  am  not  afraid 
to  go.  I  believed,  from  my  first  attack, 
that  I  should  not  survive  it.  My  breath 
can  not  last  long." 

The  doctor  pressed  his  hand,  but  could 
not  utter  a  word.  He  retired  from  the 
bedside,  and  sat  by  the  fire  absorbed  in 
grief.  Between  five  and  six  o'clock,  Dr. 
Dick  and  Dr.  Brown  came  into  the  room, 
and  with  Dr.  Craik  went  to  the  bed,  when 
Dr.  Craik  asked  him  if  he  could  sit  up  in 
the  bed.  He  held  out  his  hand,  and  I 
12 


raised  him  up.     He  then   5 
said  to  the  physicians, 

"  I  feel  myself  going;   \ 
I  thank   you  for  your  BH 
attentions  ;  but  I  pray  you  to  \ 
trouble  about  me.     Let  me  go  off  quietly. 
I  cannot  last  long" 

About  ten  o'clock  he  made  several  at 
tempts  to  speak  to  me  before  he  could 
effect  it.  At  length  he  said, 

"  I  am  just  going.  Have  me  decently 
buried;  and  do  not  let  my  body  be  put 
into  the  vault  in  less  than  three  days  after 
I  am  dead." 

I  bowed  assent,  for  I  could  not  speak. 
He  then  looked  at  me  again  and  said, 

"  Do  you  understand  me  ?  " 

"Yes,"  I  replied. 

"'Tis  WELL,"  said  he;  the  last  words 
which  he  ever  uttered  on  earth. 

With  surprising  self-possession  he  pre 
pared  to  die — composing  his  form  at  full 
length,  and  folding  his  arms  on  his  bosom. 

About  ten  minutes  before  he  expired 
(which  was  between  ten  and  eleven  o'clock 
Saturday  evening),  his  breathing  became 
easier.  He  lay  quietly  ;  he  withdrew  his 
hand  from  mine,  and  felt  his  own  pulse. 


178 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


I  saw  his  countenance  change.  I  spoke  to 
Dr.  Craik,  who  sat  by  the  fire.  He  came 
to  the  bedside.  The  general's  hand  fell 
from  his  wrist.  I  took  it  in  mine,  and 
pressed  it  to  my  bosom.  Dr.  Craik  put 
his  hands  over  his  eyes,  and  he  expired 
without  a  struggle  or  a  sigh,  December 
fourteenth,  1799,  in  the  sixty-eighth  year 
of  his  age,  after  an  illness  of  twenty-four 
hours. 

"While  we  were  fixed  in  silent  grief, 
Mrs.  Washington,  who  was  sitting  at  the 
foot  of  the  bed,  asked  with  a  firm  and 
collected  voice,  "  Is  he  gone  ?  "  I  could 
not  speak,  but  held  up  my  hand  as  a  signal 
that  he  was  no  more.  "  'Tis  well,"  said 
she,  in  the  same  voice,  "  all  is  now  over ; 
I  shall  soon  follow  him;  I  have  no  more 
trials  to  pass  through." 

The  disease  of  which  Washington  died 
was  what  is  now  technically  called  "  acute 
laryngitis,"  a  disease  of  very  rare  occur 
rence. 


OEOROK  WASHINGTON,  AS  COLONEL. 

About  twelve  o'clock,  the  body  was  car 
ried  down  stairs,  and  laid  out  in  the  large 
drawing-room  ;  the  burial  taking  place  the 
next  Wednesday,  December  18th,  his 
mortal  remains  being  deposited  in  the 
family  vault  at  Mount  Vernon.  The 
sudden  tidings  of  his  death  fell  like  a  do 
mestic  sorrow  upon  the  hearts  of  the 
people  ;  lamentations  and  solemn  obsequies 
filled  the  land, — and,  throughout  the  whole 
world,  the  event  was  heard  with  the  deep 
est  emotion. 

Nearly  forty  years  after  Washington's 


death  and  burial,  his  remains,  together 
with  those  of  his  wife,  were  re-entombed, 
in  order  to  their  being  placed  in  the 
marble  coffins  which  had  been  generouslv 
offered  for  that  purpose  by  a  patriotic  citi 
zen  of  Philadelphia,  to  the  legal  represen 
tatives  of  the  departed  chieftain.  This 
was  in  1837.  At  the  time  of  Washing 
ton's  interment,  December  18,  1799,  his 
body  was  placed  in  a  mahogany  coffin  lined 
with  lead,  soldered  at  the  joints,  with  a 
cover  of  lead  to  be  soldered  on  after  the 
body  should  be  in  the  vault.  The  coffin 
was  put  into  a  case,  lined  and  covered 
with  black  cloth. 

On  entering  the  tomb  and  examining 
the  coffin,  on  the  occasion  in  question,  it 
was  found  that  the  lid  had  become  dis 
placed  and  broken,  and  the  silver  shield 
which  had  originally  surmounted  the  lid 
had  dropped  down  into  the  case.  At  the 
request  of  Major  Lewis,  who  was  one  of 
the  family  group  to  witness  the  re-entomb 
ment,  the  fractured  part  of  the  lid  was 
turned  over  on  the  lower  part,  exposing  to 
view  a  head  and  breast  of  large  dimen 
sions,  which  appeared,  by  the  dim  light  of 
the  candles,  to  have  suffered  but  little 
from  the  effects  of  time.  The  eye-sockets 
were  large  and  deep,  and  the  breadth 
across  the  temples,  together  with  the  fore 
head,  appeared  of  unusual  size.  There 
was  no  appearance  of  grave-clothes ;  the 
chest  was  broad,  the  color  was  dark,  and 
there  was  the  appearance  of  dried  flesh 
and  skin  adhering  closely  to  the  bones. 

The  ancient  family  vault,  in  which 
Washington's  remains  first  reposed,  was 
situated  under  the  shade  of  a  small  grove 
of  forest  trees,  a  short  distance  from  the 
family  mansion  of  Mount  Vernon,  and 
near  the  brow  of  the  precipitous  bank  of 
the  Potomac.  Diminutive  and  unadorned, 
this  humble  sepulchre  stood  in  a  most 
romantic  and  picturesque  spot,  and,  on  ac 
count  of  its  prominent  locality,  could  be 
distinctly  seen  by  travelers,  as  they  passed 
in  steamboats  up  and  down  the  river. 

But  the  ashes  of  the  father  of  his  coun 
try  were  in  course  of  time  removed  from 
that  place,  to  a  lot  near  the  corner  of  a 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


179 


beautiful  enclosure,  where  the  river  is  con 
cealed  from  view.  This  site  was  selected 
by  Washington  himself,  in  the  later  years 
of  his  life,  for  a  tomb. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  cite  the  opin 
ions  held  by  the  illustrious  men  of  Amer 
ica  concerning  Washington.  Those  opin 
ions,  held  and  shared  by  all,  from  the 
highest  to  the  humblest  citizen,  may  all 
be  summed  up  in  that  grand  apotheosis  of 
eulogy,  namely,  that  he  was  "  FIRST  IN 
WAR,  FIRST  IN  PEACE,  FIRST  IN  THE 
HEARTS  OF  His  COUNTRYMEN."  It  will 
be  of  interest,  however,  in  this  place, 
to  glance  at  the  estimate  of  Washing 
ton  held  by  some  of  the  great  historic 
characters  of  the  old  world, — kings,  queens, 
nobles,  and  orators. 

When  Napoleon  was  about  to  embark 
for  Egypt,  some  American  gentlemen  who 
happened  to  be  at  Toulon,  being  anxious 
for  an  interview  with  the  mighty  Corsi- 
can,  obtained  an  introduction  to  him. 
Scarcely  were  the  customary  salutations 
exchanged,  when  he  eagerly  asked — 

"How  fares  your  countryman,  the  great 
Washington  ?  " 

"  He  was  very  well,  general,  when  we 
left  America,"  replied  the  travelers. 

"Ah,  gentlemen,"  rejoined  the  man  of 
destiny,  "Washington  can  never  be  other 
wise  than  well.  The  measure  of  his  fame 


GEORGE  WASHINGTON.  GENERAL  I".   S.  A. 

is  full.  Posterity  will  talk  of  him  with 
reverence  as  the  founder  of  a  great  empire, 
when  my  name  shall  be  lost  in  the  vortex 
of  revolutions." 

Marie  Antoinette,  queen  of  France,  was 


a  great  admirer  of  the  heroism  and  per 
sonal  character  of  Washington,  though 
not  in  sympathy  with  his  political  princi 
ples.  Wishing  to  send  to  him  a  royal 


PRESIDENT  OF  THB  UNITED  STATES. 


gift  in  token  of  her  appreciation  of  his 
great  merits,  she  consulted  Lafayette  as  to 
the  form  of  presentation,  citing  the  terms 
used  on  similar  occasions,  in  addressing 
kings  and  other  monarchs.  Lafayette 
mildly  objected  to  those  terms,  as  being 
not  altogether  suitable  in  the  present  case, 
saying :  "  They,  madam,  were  only  kings. 
Washington  is  the  General  of  a  free  na 
tion," — a  sentiment  to  which  the  gentle- 
mannered  queen  at  once  yielded  a  most 
gracious  assent,  in  deference  to  the  ac 
knowledged  pre-eminence  of  Washington. 
Lord  Erskine,  in  writing  to  Washington 
from  London,  said :  "  I  have  taken  the 
liberty  to  introduce  your  august  and  im 
mortal  name  in  a  short  sentence,  which  is 
to  be  found  in  a  book  I  send  you.  I  have 
a  large  acquaintance  among  the  most  val 
uable  and  exalted  classes  of  men ;  but  you 
are  the  only  human  being  for  whom  I  have 
ever  felt  an  awful  reverence.  I  sincerely 
pray  God  to  grant  you  a  long  and  serene 
evening  to  a  life  so  gloriously  devoted  to 
the  universal  happiness  of  the  world." 


180 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


In  the  year  1780,  Frederick  the  Great, 
king  of  Prussia,  presented  General  Wash 
ington  with  a  picture  of  his  majesty  taken 
to  the  life,  and  inscribed  underneath  with 
the  words — 

"From  the  oldest  general  in  Europe,  to 
the  greatest  general  on  earth." 

Charles  James  Fox,  the  renowned  Brit 
ish  premier,  declared  of  Washington,  in 
the  presence  of  parliament:  "How  infi 
nitely  wiser  must  appear  the  spirit  and 
principles  manifested  in  his  late  addresses 
to  congress  than  the  policy  of  modern  Eu 
ropean  courts  !  Illustrious  man  !  deriving 
honor  less  from  the  splendor  of  his  situa 
tion  than  from  the  dignity  of  his  mind; 
before  whom  all  borrowed  greatness  sinks 
into  insignificance,  and  all  the  potentates 
of  Europe — excepting  the  members  of  our 
own  royal  family — become  little  and  con 
temptible.  I  can  not,  indeed,  help  admir 
ing  the  wisdom  and  fortune  of  this  great 
man.  A  character,  of  virtues  so  happily 
tempered  by  one  another,  and  so  wholly 
unalloyed  by  any  vices,  is  hardly  to  be 
found  on  the  pages  of  history.  For  him  it 
has  been  reserved  to  run  the  race  of  glory, 
without  experiencing  the  smallest  inter 
ruption  to  the  brilliancy  of  his  career." 

When  the  news  of  Washington's  death 
reached  France,  Napoleon  announced  the 
event  to  his  army,  and  ordered  black  crape 
to  be  suspended  from  all  the  flags  and 
standards  in  the  French  service  for  ten 
days ;  and,  on  the  eighth  of  February, 
1800,  M.  DeFontanes,  by  direction  of  Na 
poleon,  pronounced  a  funeral  oration  in 
honor  of  Washington,  in  the  presence  of 
Bonaparte  and  the  great  dignitaries  of  the 
realm,  in  which  oration  the  illustrious  de 
ceased  was  declared  to  be  "  a  character 
worthy  the  best  days  of  antiquity." 

Of  Washington's  personal  appearance, 
little  further  need  be  remarked  than  that 
it  comported  entirely  with  the  solid  gran 
deur  of  his  character.  In  respect  to  phy 
sique,  no  man  could  have  been  better 
formed  for  command.  A  stature  some 
what  exceeding  six  feet,  a  full  but  admir 
ably-proportioned  frame,  calculated  to 
sustain  fatigue,  without  that  heaviness 


which  generally  attends  great  muscular 
strength  and  abates  active  exertion,  dis 
played  bodily  power  of  no  mean  standard. 
A  light  gray  eye  and  full,  firm  forehead, 
Roman  nose  ;  his  mouth  was  peculiar  of  its 


TOM  I?  OK  WASHI1K 


class — the  lips  firm,  and  the  under  jaw 
seeming  to  grasp  the  upper  with  force,  as 
if  its  muscles  were  in  full  action  when  he 
sat  still.  It  was  Washington's  habit  to 
fasten  his  eyes  calmly  and  steadily  upon 
those  who  were  ushered  into  his  presence, 
whether  friend  or  foe,  nor  was  it  a  slight 
ordeal  thus  to  meet  his  penetrating  gaze. 
His  limbs  were  long,  large,  and  sinewy, 
and  his  frame  was  of  equal  breadth  from 
the  shoulders  to  the  hips  ;  his  joints  were 
large,  as  were  also  his  feet,  and  the  great 
size  of  his  hand  never  failed  to  attract 
attention.  His  gait  and  tread  was  that  of 
a  practiced  soldier ;  his  deportment  inva 
riably  grave  and  reserved ;  his  speech 
sparing  and  deliberate.  At  home  he  wore 
the  usual  dress  of  a  citizen ;  on  state  occa 
sions,  he  dressed  in  a  full  suit  of  the  rich 
est  black  velvet,  with  diamond  knee- 
buckles,  and  square  silver  buckles  set 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


181 


upon  shoes  japanned  with  the  most  scru 
pulous  neatness,  black  silk  stockings,  his 
shirt  ruffled  at  the  breast  and  wrists,  a 
light  dress  sword,  his  hair  profusely  pow 
dered,  fully  dressed,  so  as  to  project  at  the 
sides,  and  gathered  behind  in  a  silk  bag, 


ornamented  with  a  large  rose  of  black 
ribbon.  In  the  prime  of  life,  Washington 
stood  six  feet  two  inches,  and  weighed 
nearly  two  hundred  and  twenty  pounds  ; 
he  measured  precisely  six  feet  when  at 
tired  for  the  grave. 


XVII. 

PUNISHMENT   AND    COMPLETE    DEGRADATION    OF   THE 
BARBARY  STATES  BY  THE  YOUNG  REPUBLIC.— 1803. 


Tribute  Exacted  of  all  the  Nations  of  Christendom,  by  the  Piratical  Powers. — The  Thunder  of  American 
Cannon  before  their  Cities  — Ignominious  Submission  of  Morocco,  Algiers,  Tunis,  and  Tripoli. — Their 
Audacious  Corsairs  Vanquished  and  Driven  in  Terror  from  the  Seas. — A  Boon  to  the  Civilized 
World. — Barbary  a  Nation  of  Freebooters. — All  Commerce  at  their  Mercy. — The  United  States 
Unknown  to  Them. — Its  Flag  Descried  on  the  Ocean. — Fresh  Plunder  Anticipated. — Seizure  of 
American  Ships. — Retaliation  by  the  Yankees. — Tripoli's  Flag  Struck  at  Last. — Treaty  between  the 
Belligerents  — New  Exactions  by  the  Algerines. — Retribution  in  Store  for  Them. — A  United  States 
Frigate  in  the  Pirate  Haunts. — Grounding  of  the  Philadelphia. — Her  Triumphant  Capture  by  the 
Enemy. — Their  Boisterous  Exultation. — Decatur  Burns  Her  During  the  Night. — Fierce  Rage  of  the 
Turks. — Bombardment  of  Tripoli. — How  "  Christian  Dogs  "  were  Viewed. — Peace  Sued  for  by  the 
Despots. — Their  Duplicity  and  Treachery. — America's  "Tribute"  is  Powder  and  Balls. 


"Ifyou  iruiit  upon  receiving  powder  u  tribute,  you  rauit  expect  to  receive  balli  with  It  I"— COMMODOBE  DlOATDB  TO  THB  BABBABT 

QoTBuriuurr. 


ONSIDEKING  the  peculiar  weakness  and  insignificance  of  the 
Barbary  States,  as  a  military  power,  it  may  well  appear  strange  to  the 
reader  of  history,  at  the  present  day,  that,  almost  to  the  opening  of 
the  nineteenth  century,  nearly  all  the  maritime  nations  of  the  earth 
paid  tribute  to  that  power,  in  order  to  appease  the  insolence  and  ob 
tain  exemption  from  the  ravages  of  their  piratical  cruisers.  The  gov 
ernment  of  England  or  of  France  might,  as  has  been  truly  remarked, 
have  stopped  this  system  of  piracy  long  before,  by  one  peremptory  word ; 
U'  "BARBARY!  T°  but>  as  tlie  corsairs  committed  their  depredations  chiefly  in  the  Med 
iterranean,  those  two  countries  had  no  special  inducement  to  interfere.  And  there  was 
always  some  jealous  calculation  of  advantage,— some  pitiful  project  of  turning  them  to 
future  account, — which  prevented  decisive  action  on  the  part  of  either  nation.  Then 
the  wars  which  followed  the  French  Revolution  kept  Europe  busy  at  home,  and  gave 
the  Barbary  sailors  the  opportunity  of  pursuing  their  calling  for  a  few  years  longer 
with  impunity.  The  English,  with  large  fleets  and  naval  stations  in  the  Mediterranean, 
had  nothing  to  fear  from  them,  and  were,  probably,  not  much  displeased  with  the  con 
tributions  levied  upon  the  commerce  of  other  nations.  French  merchantmen  kept  at 
home.  Spain,  Sweden,  Denmark,  and  Holland  tried  to  outbid  one  another  for  the  favor 
of  the  bey,  dey,  and  pacha,  and  were  robbed  and  enslaved  whenever  it  suited  the  inter 
ests  of  their  highnesses.  The  Portuguese  prudently  kept  out  of  reach,  and  protected 
their  coast  by  guarding  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar.  It  was  a  long  time,  comparatively, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


183 


before  their  highnesses  were  made  ac 
quainted  with  the  fact  of  there  being  a 
sovereignty  called  the  United  States. 

In  course  of  time,  the  piratical  cruisers 
descried  a  new  flag  floating  proudly  from 
the  mast-head  of  heavy-freighted  craft 
plowing  their  way  gallantly  through  the 
blue  waters ;  but,  though  its  appearance 
was  hailed  with  avaricious  joy,  as  insuring 
additional  harvests  of  plunder,  it  was  soon 
to  seal  their  doom,  and  scatter  them,  af 
frighted  and  dismayed,  from  the  high  seas. 

Few  subjects  had  excited  more  irritation 
among  the  people  as  well  as  the  authori 
ties  of  the  government  of  the  United 
States,  up  to  this  period  of  their  national 
independence,  than  this  lawless  and  out 
rageous  captivity  of  their  fellow-citizens 
in  Algiers. 

It  may  well  be  supposed,  however,  that 
no  such  galling  yoke  could  long  be  worn 
or  borne  by  a  free  people  ;  and  it  was  not 
long,  therefore,  before  Washington  recom 
mended  the  construction  of  a  naval  arma 
ment  adequate  to  the  protection  of  the 
commerce  of  the  United  States  against  the 
depredations  committed  by  the  dey's  cor 
sairs,  and  this  proposal  eventually  received 
the  sanction  of  congress.  The  act  pro 
vided  for  four  frigates  of  forty-four  guns 
each,  and  two  of  thirty-six  guns  each,  and 
in  due  time  they  were  built,  manned  and 
equipped,  and  put  in  commission,  to  vindi 
cate  the  rights  and  liberties  of  the  Amer 
ican  flag. 

There  was  retribution  in  store  for  the 
Barbary  States,  to  be  dealt  out  to  them  by 
the  youngest  and  most  remote  in  the 
family  of  nations  ! 

The  naval  squadron  intended  for  this 
purpose  consisted  of  the  frigate  President, 
commanded  by  Commodore  Dale,  the 
frigate  Philadelphia,  commanded  by  Cap 
tain  Barron,  the  frigate  Essex,  under 
Captain  Bainbridge,  and  the  schooner  En 
terprise,  Lieutenant  Commandant  Sterrett. 
In  obedience  to  instructions  from  Commo 
dore  Dale,  Bainbridge  appeared  off  the 
cities  of  Algiers,  Tunis,  and  Tripoli ;  and 
during  the  winter  and  spring  of  1802, 
cruised  in  different  parts  of  the  Mediterra 


nean,  and  convoyed  the  United  States 
merchant  vessels  issuing  from  various 
ports,  out  of  that  infested  sea.  After  this 
period  of  service,  Commodore  Dale  was 
succeeded  in  his  command,  first  by  Com 


modore  Richard  Y.  Morris,  and  subse 
quently  by  Commodore  Preble.  The 
Essex,  appearing  unseaworthy,  was  sent 
home.  It  should  also  be  here  mentioned, 
that,  on  the  sixth  of  August,  1801,  the 
Enterprise  fell  in  with  a  Tripolitan  ship  of 
war  of  equal  force ;  the  action  continued 
three  hours  and  a  half,  the  corsair  fight 
ing  with  great  obstinacy,  and  even  des 
peration,  until  she  struck,  having  lost  fifty 
killed  and  wounded/  while  the  Enterprise 
had  not  a  man  injured.  This  was  the 
first  Tripolitan  ship-of-war,  and  indeed 
the  first  armed  vessel  of  any  of  the  Bar 
bary  powers,  which  ever  struck  to  the 
American  flag. 

Not  only  did  the  United  States  now 
determine  to  protect  its  maritime  rights  as 
a  commercial  power,  but  it  resolved  to 
pursue  the  matter  aggressively,  and 
punish  the  insolence  of  the  piratical  bar 
barians  who  thus  assumed  to  dictate  to 
Christendom.  Under  Commodore  Preble, 
the  squadron  consisted  of  the  frigate  Phil 
adelphia,  of  forty-four  guns,  commanded 
by  Bainbridge;  the  frigate  Constitution, 
of  forty-four  guns,  commanded  by  Preble  ; 
the  brig  Syren,  of  twelve  guns,  commanded 
by  Stewart;  and  the  schooners  Vixen, 
Nautilus,  Argus,  and  Enterprise,  of  twelve 


184 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


to  sixteen  guns  each,  and  commanded  re 
spectively  by  Lieutenants  Smith,  Seiners, 
Hull,  and  Decatur.  Their  orders  were  to 
humble  and  punish  the  Barbary  sover 
eigns. 

While  going  up  the  Mediterranean,  the 
Philadelphia  descried,  on  the  coast  of 
Spain,  near  Cape  de  Gatte,  a  ship  car 
rying  only  her  foresail,  with  a  brig  in 
company.  It  being  night,  and  the  guns 
of  the  craft  being  housed,  it  was  not  easy 
to  at  once  discover  her  true  character. 
After  repeatedly  hailing,  she  proved  to  be 
a  ship-of-war  from  Barbary,  on  which  in 
formation,  Bainbridge  ordered  her  boat  to 
be  sent  on  board  the  Philadelphia,  with 
her  papers  ;  the  latter  showed  that  she 
was  a  cruiser  belonging  to  the  emperor  of 
Morocco,  and  called  the  Meshboha,  com 
manded  by  Ibrahim  Lubarez,  mounting 
twenty-two  guns,  and  carrying  one  hun 
dred  and  twenty  men. 

By  not  making  themselves  known,  on 
board  the  Philadelphia,  to  the  Moorish 
officer  who  presented  himself,  the  latter 
made  free  to  say  that  the  brig  in  company 
was  American,  and  had  been  with  them 
three  or  four  days,  was  bound  to  some  port 
in  Spain,  and  had  been  boarded  by  them, 
but  not  detained.  The  small  sail,  how 
ever,  which  the  brig  was  unt.or,  induced 
Bainbridge  to  suspect  that  she  had  been 
captured ;  he  therefore  sent  his  first  lieu 
tenant  on  board  the  pirate,  to  see  if  there 
were  any  American  prisoners. 


Bainbridge  instantly  ordered  all  the 
Moorish  officers  and  crew  on  board  the 
Philadelphia.  Owing  to  the  high  wind 
and  sea,  the  greater  part  of  the  night  was 
thus  occupied  in  getting  the  prisoners  on 
board  and  manning  the  prize,  by  which 
detention  the  brig  was  lost  sight  of,  nor 
was  she  discovered  again  until  late  in  the 
afternoon  of  the  ensuing  day,  when  she 
was  met  coming  round  Cape  de  Gatte  from 
the  eastward,  standing  close  in  shore  for 
Almira  Bay  ;  but  in  consequence  of  light 
winds,  she  was  not  re-captured  until  mid 
night.  The  Moors  confessed  that  they 
came  out  for  the  sole  purpose  of  cruising 
for,  and  capturing,  American  vessels.  On 
the  morning  after  the  capture,  the  Moor 
ish  commander  was  requested  to  exhibit 
the  orders  which  authorized  him  to  cap 
ture  American  vessels,  to  which  he  replied, 
that  he  had  none.  To  the  question,  why 


he  had  captured  the  brig,  he  answered, 
that  as  there  was  some  misunderstanding 
between  his  master  and  the  United  States 
consul,  at  Tangier,  he  was  induced  to 
commit  this  act,  in  anticipation  of  the  war, 
which  he  thought  was  inevitable.  Cap 
tain  Bainbridge  observed  to  him,  that  if 
such  had  been  his  intention  previously  to 
sailing,  he  ought  not,  as  an  honorable 
officer,  to  have  availed  himself  of  the  pro- 
tection  of  the  consid's  passports,  which, 
from  all  appearances,  were  obtained  with 
the  view  of  practicing  a  deception  on  the 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


185 


BURNING  OF  THE  PHILADELPHIA. 


United  States  cruisers.  Captain  Bain- 
bridge  expressed  an  unwillingness  to  be 
lieve  him  capable  of  acting  thus  dishonor 
ably,  and  therefore  must  presume  that 
this  violation  of  national  faith  was  com 
mitted  under  the  authority  of  the  emperor. 
The  Moorish  commander,  still  persisting 
in  his  first  denial,  Captain  Bainbridge 
turned  upon  him,  and  sternly  remarked — 

"  Then,  sir,  I  must  consider  you  a 
pirate,  and  will  be  obliged  to  treat  you  as 
such." 

Bainbridge  now  pulled  out  his  watch, 
showed  Lubarez  the  hour,  and  stated  in  an 
impressive  tone,  that  he  was  about  to  visit 
the  quarter-deck  for  half  an  hour,  and  if 
his  authority  for  depredating  on  the  com 
merce  of  the  United  States  was  not  forth 
coming  on  his  return,  he  would  immedi 
ately  hang  him  to  the  main  yard,  as  a 
pirate  and  malefactor.  At  the  appointed 
time,  Captain  Bainbridge  returned  to  the 
cabin  with  watch  in  hand,  and  his  deter 
mined  purpose  manifest  in  every  look  and 
movement.  Startled  at  the  course  which 
things  seemed  to  be  taking,  the  Moor  has 
tily  proceeded  to  unbutton  several  waist 
coats,  and,  from  the  inside  pocket  of  the 
fifth,  drew  out  the  secret  document,  the 
nature  of  which  confirmed  the  American 
commander's  suspicions.  Lubarez  was  a 


man  of  education,  great  dignity,  and  had 
for  many  years  represented  the  emperor  of 
Morocco,  as  minister  at  the  courts  of 
France  and  Spain.  His  capture  was  most 
timely. 

The  attention  of  Commodore  Preble 
was  first  directed  toward  Morocco,  and 
anchoring  at  Tangier  with  a  part  of  his 
squadron,  in  October,  1803,  he  humbled 
the  emperor  by  proposing  such  terms,  and 
insisting  on  their  acceptance,  as  placed  the 
relations  of  the  United  States  with  that 
power  on  a  greatly-improved  footing. 

Most  of  the  armament  was  now  to  be 
concentrated  before  Tripoli.  On  arriving 
off  that  port,  the  Philadelphia,  Captain 
Bainbridge,  was  sent  into  the  harbor  to 
reconnoiter.  While  in  eager  pursuit  of  a 
small  vessel,  he  unfortunately  advanced  so 
far  that  the  frigate  grounded  on  a  ledge  of 
rocks,  in  plain  sight  of  the  enemy,  and  all 
attempts  to  remove  her  were  absolutely 
in  vain.  The  sea  around  her  was  imme 
diately  covered  with  Tripolitan  gunboats, 
and  Bainbridge  was  compelled  to  surren 
der,  the  ship  being  a  perfect  wreck,  and 
exposed  to  the  constant  fire  of  the  gun 
boats  for  more  than  five  hours.  Immedi 
ate  possession  was  taken  of  the  frigate, 
she  being  entered  at  every  point,  and  an 
indiscriminate  plunder  ensuing. 


186 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Lieutenant  Stephen  Decatur,  a  gallant 
officer  of  the  besieging  squadron,  early 
proposed  a  plan  for  re-capturing  or  de 
stroying  the  Philadelphia,  and,  accord 
ingly,  Commodore  Preble  directed  him  to 
proceed  in  the  ketch  Intrepid,  carrying 
four  guns  and  seventy-five  men,  under  the 
escort  of  the  Syren,  Captain  Stewart,  in 
the  prosecution  of  his  plan. 

The  Philadelphia  lay  within  half  gun 
shot  of  the  governor's  palace,  and  several 
cruisers  and  gun-boats  surrounded  her  with 
jealous  vigilance.  The  Intrepid  entered 
the  harbor  alone,  about  eight  o'clock  in 
the  evening,  and  in  a  short  time  succeeded 
in  getting  near  the  Philadelphia,  without 
having  awakened  suspicions  of  any  hostile 
design  being  under  way.  The  Intrepid 
was  a  vessel  which  had  been  captured  from 
the  Tripolitans,  and,  assuming  on  this  oc 
casion  her  former  national  appearance, 
was  permitted  to  warp  alongside,  under 
the  alleged  pretense  that  she  had  lost  all 
her  anchors.  The  moment  the  vessel 
came  in  contact,  Decatur  and  his  followers 
leaped  on  board,  and  soon  overwhelmed  a 
crew  that  was  paralyzed  with  consterna 
tion.  Twenty  of  the  Tripolitans  were 
killed.  All  the  surrounding  batteries 
being  opened  upon  the  Philadelphia,  she 
was  immediately  set  on  fire,  and  not  'aban 
doned  until  thoroughly  wrapped  in  flames ; 


when,  a  favoring  breeze  springing  up,  the 
Intrepid  extricated  herself  from  her  prey, 
and  sailed  triumphantly  out  of  the  harbor 


amid  the  light  of  the  conflagration.  Not 
the  slightest  loss  of  life  occurred  on  the 
side  of  the  Americans  to  shade  the  splen 
dor  of  the  enterprise.  One  seaman  re 
ceived  a  severe  wound,  under  peculiar 
circumstances.  It  appears  that  as  soon  as 
the  Intrepid  was  warped  alongside  the 
Philadelphia,  Decatur  sprang  on  board, 
quickly  followed  by  the  other  officers  and 
men.  Instantly,  the  brave  commander, 
with  his  gallant  comrades,  rushed,  sword 
in  hand,  on  the  enemy,  who  were  crowded 
together  on  the  forecastle,  and  killed  or 
drove  into  the  sea  the  whole  gang.  In  the 
first  desperate  struggle,  Decatur  was  dis 
armed  and  fell,  momentarily  overpowered 
in  the  sanguinary  melee.  A  saber  was 
already  lifted  to  strike  the  fatal  blow, 
when  this  heroic  seaman,  observing  the 
perilous  situation  of  his  officer,  reached 
forward,  and  received  the  blow  of  the 
saber  on  his  arm. 

It  is  recorded  that  nothing  could  exceed 
the  rage  of  the  sovereign,  at  the  loss  of 
his  valuable  prize.  Barbarian-like,  he 
ordered  the  prison  to  be  immediately  sur 
rounded  by  guards,  and  interrupted  all 
intercourse  between  the  officers  and  men. 
They  were  also  conducted  under  a  strong 
guard  to  the  castle,  and  confined  in  a 
cold  and  damp  apartment,  with  only 
one  opening  at  the  top,  which  was  grated 
with  iron;  light  and  air  came  through 
this  aperture  solel}'.  Thus  they  were 
entombed  during  the  remainder  of  their 
captivity. 

Determined  now  to  try  the  effect  of  a 
bombardment,  Preble  brought  together  all 
his  forces  before  Tripoli,  in  July,  1804. 
The  enemy  having  sent  some  gun-boats 
and  galleys  without  the  reef  at  the  mouth 
of  the  harbor,  two  divisions  of  American 
gun-boats  were  formed  for  the  purpose  of 
attacking  them,  while  the  large  vessels 
assailed  the  batteries  and  town.  Early  in 
August,  the  American  squadron  ap 
proached  within  gun-shot  of  the  town,  and 
opened  a  tremendous  fire  of  shot  and 
shells,  which  was  as  promptly  returned  by 
the  Tripolitan  batteries  and  shipping.  At 
the  same  time,  the  two  divisions  of  gun- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


187 


BOMBARDMENT  OF  TRIPOLI. 


boats,  the  first  under  the  command  of 
Captain  Richard  Somers,  the  second  under 
Captain  Stephen  Decatur,  who  had  been 
promoted  as  a  reward  for  his  late  achieve 
ment,  advanced  against  those  of  the 
enemy.  The  squadron  was  about  two 
hours  under  the  enemy's  batteries,  gener 
ally  within  pistol-shot,  ranging  by  them  in 
deliberate  succession,  alternately  silencing 
their  fires,  and  launching  its  thunders  into 
the  very  palace  of  royalty,  while  a  yet 
more  animated  battle  was  raging  in  an 
other  quarter.  What  the  Turks  them 
selves  thought  of  these  demonstrations 
may  be  judged  from  the  fact  that  the  gov 
ernor,  affecting  at  first  to  despise  his 
assailants  and  their  attack,  was  soon  glad 
to  run  in  dismay  to  a  bomb-proof  apart 
ment  in  his  castle.  The  sons  of  the 
prophet  said,  in  their  rage  : — 

"The  English,  French  and  Spanish 
consuls,  have  told  us  that  they  are  a  young 
nation,  and  got  their  independence  by 
means  of  France ;  that  they  had  a  small 
navy  and  their  officers  were  inexperienced, 
and  that  they  were  merely  a  nation  of 
merchants,  and  that,  by  taking  their  ships 
and  men,  we  should  get  great  ransoms. 


Instead  of  this,  their  Preble  pays  us  a 
coin  of  shot,  shells,  and  hard  blows;  and 
sent  a  Decatur,  in  a  dark  night,  with  a 
band  of  Christian  dogs  fierce  and  cruel 
as  the  tiger,  who  killed  our  "brothers  and 
burnt  our  ships  before  our  eyes." 

Preble  now  planned  to  send  a  fire-ship 
into  the  enemy's  harbor.  The  Intrepid 
was  fitted  out  for  this  service,  filled  with 
combustible  and  explosive  materials.  The 
brave  Captain  Somers  was  appointed  to 
conduct  her,  under  suitable  convoy,  to  the 
mouth  of  the  harbor ;  choice  was  also  made 
of  two  of  the  fleetest  boats  in  the  squad 
ron,  manned  with  picked  crews,  to  bring 
them  out.  At  eight  o'clock  in  the  even 
ing  she  stood  into  the  harbor  with  a  mod 
erate  breeze.  Several  shots  were  fired  at 
her  from  the  batteries.  She  had  nearly 
gained  her  place  of  destination  when  she 
exploded,  without  having  made  any  of  the 
signals  previously  concerted  to  show  that 
all  was  well.  Night  hung  over  the  dread 
ful  catastrophe,  and  left  the  whole  squad 
ron  a  prey  to  the  most  painful  anxiety. 
The  convoy  hovered  about  the  harbor  until 
sunrise,  when  no  remains  could  be  discov 
ered  either  of  the  Intrepid  or  her  boats. 


188 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Doubt  was  now  turned  into  fatal  certainty, 
— she  had  prematurely  blown  up !  This 
event  was  deeply  deplored  in  the  United 
States,  and,  in  memory  of  the  heroic  dead, 
there  has  been  erected  a  beautiful  Doric 
monument  in  the  capitol  grounds  at 
Washington. 

Soon  after  these  events,  Commodore 
Barron  succeeded  Preble  in  command,  and 
it  being  understood  that  re-enforcements 
and  another  attack  were  near  at  hand,  the 
Turkish  ruler  came  to  terms,  and  desired 
to  make  peace. 

True  to  their  characteristic  duplicity 
and  treachery,  the  Algerine  authorities,  on 
the  breaking-out  of  war  between  England 
and  the  United  States,  took  advantage  of 
the  presumed  disabilities  of  the  latter,  re 
sumed  their  system  of  piracies  and  extorting 
tribute-money  and  presents.  Two  squad 
rons  were  duly  fitted  out  by  the  American 
government,  and  were  commanded  by 
Commodores  Decatur  and  Bainbridge. 
Appearing  before  Algiers,  Decatur  sent 
the  model  of  a  treaty  to  the  governor,  de 
manding  instant  agreement.  The  Turk 
thought  it  hard  to  have  to  relinquish  his 
tribute-money  and  presents  of  every  sort, 
and  intimated  that  he  would  at  least  like 
to  receive  a  supply  of  powder.  "  If"  re 


plied  Decatur,  "  you  insist  upon  receiving 
powder  as  tribute,  you  must  expect  to  re 
ceive  balls  with  it  !  "  The  governor  turned 
pale  at  this  stern  language,  and  was  glad 
enough  to  yield  to  the  terms  dictated  by 
the  intrepid  negotiator. 

Thus,  before  the  authorities  of  Barbary 
had  received  any  intimation  of  the  restor 
ation  of  peace  between  Britain  and  Amer 
ica,  the  American  squadron  appeared 
before  their  capitals  ;  had  captured  several 
of  their  vessels  ;  compelled  the  governor  of 
Algiers  to  submit  to  the  indignity  of  sign 
ing,  on  Decatur's  quarter-deck,  a  humiliat 
ing  treaty;  obliged  Tunis  to  refund  the 
amount  of  American  property  which  they 
permitted  the  English  cruisers  to  take  out 
of  their  harbor;  and  exacted  of  Tripoli  an 
apology  for  the  insult  offered  to  the  United 
States  consul,  and  again  to  hoist  the  re 
public's  flag  over  the  consul's  house, 
accompanied  by  a  salute  of  twenty-four 
guns.  The  submission  of  these  powers 
was  complete.  They  bound  themselves  to 
make  indemnity  for  past  extortions ;  to 
surrender  every  prisoner  without  ransom; 
and  to  renounce  all  claim  for  tribute  from 
the  American  government,  as  well  as  their 
barbarous  practice  of  piracy  and  reducing 
prisoners  to  slavery. 


XVIII. 


FATAL   DUEL  BETWEEN   MR.   BURR,  AND    GENERAL 
ALEXANDER    HAMILTON.— 1804. 


Fall  of  Hamilton  at  First  Fire. — His  Death  in  Thirty  Hours. — Profound  Sensation  and  Solemn  Obse 
quies  in  all  Parts  of  the  Land. — Mourned  as  one  of  the  Founders  of  the  Republic. — Indictment  of  the 
Assassin  for  the  Crime  of  Murder. — Hamilton's  Brilliant  Public  Life. — Washington's  Right-hand  Man. 
— Champion  of  the  Federalists. — Burr's  Career  in  the  Revolution. — His  Notorious  Debauchery. — Fi 
nally  Dismissed  by  Washington. — Becomes  Vice-President  in  1800. — Deadly  Personal  Hatreds. — 
Criticisms  on  Burr  by  His  Opponents. — Challenge  Sent  to  Hamilton. — Pacific  Explanations  Spurned. 
— Forced  to  Meet  Burr. — Makes  His  Will  in  Anticipation. — Sings  at  a  Banquet  the  Day  Before. — 
Arrival  of  the  Fatal  Hour. — Hamilton's  Mortal  Wound. — What  He  Said  of  the  Event. — Conversation 
Before  Dying. — Partakes  of  the  Communion. — His  Testimony  Against  Dueling. — Heartless  Conduct 
of  Burr. — A  Fugitive  and  an  Outlaw. 


Cceaar  to  Antony: 


"Let  the  old  ruffian  know 

1  have  many  other  ways  to  dies  meantime, 

Laugh  at  his  challenge."— AST.  &  CLKO.,  ACT.  4,  8c.  1. 


'Y  far  the  most  exciting  personal  transac 
tion  that  occurred  among  the  first  genera 
tion  of  American  statesmen  and  politi 
cians,  was  the  duel  fought  in  Jul}r,  1804, 
between  Colonel  Aaron  Burr,  at  that  time 
vice-president  of  the  United  States,  and 
General  Alexander  Hamilton,  formerly 
secretary  of  the  treasury,  during  the  ad 
ministration  of  Washington ;  and  in  which 
duel  Hamilton  fell  mortally  wounded,  his 
country  being  thus  deprived  of  its  most 
brilliant  ornament. 

Of  transcendent  abilities  and  unsullied 
official  integrity,  it  may  be  said  of  the 
victim  in  this  murderous  tragedy,  that  no 
one  labored  more  efficiently  than  he,  in  the 
organization  of  the  present  federal  govern 
ment.  At  the  age  of  nineteen  he  entered 
the  revolutionary  army,  and  in  1777  was 
appointed  aid-de-camp  of  General  Wash 
ington,  with  the  rank  of  lieutenant-colonel. 
In  this  capacity  he  served  during  the  re 
mainder  of  the  war,  and  at  the  siege  of  Yorktown  led  in  person  the  detachment 
that  carried  by  assault  one  of  the  British  outworks.  When  his  military  services 
were  no  longer  required,  he  commenced  the  study  of  the  law,  entered  into  its  prac- 


MONUMENT  TO 


HAMILTON. 


190 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


tice  in  New  York,  and  soon  rose  to  dis 
tinction.  In  1782,  he  was  chosen  a 
member  of  congress  ;  in  1787,  a  member  of 
the  convention  that  framed  the  federal 
constitution.  Of  this  work,  as  profound  as 
any,  and  more  generally  intelligible  than 
most,  that  have  been  written  on  the  science 
of  government,  the  larger  portion  pro 
ceeded  from  the  pen  of  Hamilton.  In 
political  life,  he  was  one  of  the  strongest 
champions  of  the  party  which  had  Wash 
ington  at  its  head.  In  1780,  he  was  placed 
in  the  cabinet,  as  secretary  of  the  treasury, 
and  while  in  this  position  rendered  the 
most  efficient  service  to  his  country,  by 
the  establishment  of  an  admirable  system 
of  national  finance.  During  the  insurrec 
tion  in  Pennsylvania,  when  the  people  of 
the  western  counties  took  up  arms  against 
the  general  government,  Hamilton  was 
placed  at  the  head  of  the  government  force 
destined  to  act  against  them  ;  the  disturb 
ances  being  quelled  without  bloodshed,  he 
resigned  his  post.  His  last  appearance  in 
military  character  was  again  by  the  side 


of  Washington,  in  1798,  as  second  in  com 
mand  of  the  army,  which  was  to  be  called 
into  service  in  case  of  hostilities  with 
France. 


Aaron  Burr  was  one  year  the  senior  of 
Hamilton,  in  point  of  age.  His  father  was 
the  Rev.  Aaron  Burr,  the  learned  and  de 
vout  president  of  Princeton  college,  and 


his  mother  the  daughter  of  that  eminent 
divine,  Jonathan  Edwards.  Before  Burr 
had  reached  his  third  year,  however,  lie 
was  an  orphan.  When  twelve  years  of 
age  ho  entered  college,  graduating  at  six 
teen  with  the  highest  reputation.  In 
1775,  while  a  student  of  law,  he  joined  the 
American  army  under  Washington,  and 
such  was  his  ardor  in  his  country's  cause, 
that  he  joined  Arnold  as  a  volunteer  in 
the  expedition  against  Quebec.  After  his 
arrival  there  he  was  appointed  aid-de-camp 
to  Montgomery,  and  was  by  the  side  of 
that  brave  officer  when  he  fell.  Subse 
quent!}',  in  1776,  lie  was  received  by 
Washington  as  one  of  his  military  family, 
but  was  soon  cast  off  by  that  stern  moral 
ist  in  consequence  of  his  debauchery. 
This  act  of  Washington,  Burr  never  for 
gave.  His  unquestioned  military  talents, 
however,  secured  for  him  the  high  position 
of  lieutenant-colonel  in  1777,  which  he  re 
tained  until  1779,  when  he  was  obliged  to 
relinquish  it  on  account  of  ill-health.  De 
voting  himself  to  law,  he  early  became  one 
of  the  greatest  lawyers  in  New  York,  of 
which  state  he  was  made  attorney-general 
in  1789.  From  1791  to  1797,  he  was  a 
United  States  senator.  In  1800,  he  was  a 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


191 


candidate  for  the  presidenc}',  and  received 
the  same  number  of  votes  as  Thomas  Jef 
ferson  ;  the  choice  thus  went  to  congress, 
which,  on  the  thirty-sixth  ballot,  elected 
Jefferson  president  and  Burr  vice-presi 
dent.  In  his  personal  appearance,  Burr 
is  described  as  having  been,  in  the  prime 
of  his  manhood,  a  small  but  well-formed, 
fair-complexioned,  fascinating  man;  his 
face  was  handsome,  by  some  described  as 
striking,  and  eyes  jet-black  and  uncom 
monly  brilliant  and  piercing.  In  public 
he  had  an  air  of  eminent  authority,  but  in 
the  drawing-room  his  manner  was  singu 
larly  graceful,  gentle,  and  winning.  He 
was  a  wit,  a  beau,  a  good  scholar,  a  pol 
ished  gentleman,  an  unscrupulous  lawyer 
and  politician,  and  a  libertine  in  morals. 
But  whoever  would  read,  in  all  its  varied 
detail,  the  life  of  this  wonderful  man, 
must  consult  the  biographies  of  him  by 
Parton  and  Davis. 

The  animosity  between  Burr  and  Ham 
ilton,  as  the  leaders,  respectively,  of  the 
two  great  political  parties,  was  very  bitter. 
The  history  of  this  quarrel,  in  its  immedi 
ate  bearing  upon  the  fatal  rencontre  in 
which  it  finally  culminated,  is  somewhat 
differently  characterized  by  various  biogra 
phers,  and  perhaps  not  always  impartially. 
Reviewing  the  matter  from  the  date  of 
Washington's  death,  the  fact  is  brought  to 
notice,  that  such  was  the  number  of  seced- 
ers  from  the  federal  party  after  that  un 
looked-for  event,  that  their  opponents  re 
solved  to  adopt  the  bold  policy  of  running 
two  presidential  candidates,  in  order  thus 
to  secure  at  least  the  election  of  a  vice- 
president,  and  in  this  way,  although  a 
choice  by  the  electoral  colleges  was  not 
effected,  the  two  candidates  of  the  demo 
cratic  party  were  brought  before  the  house 
of  representatives  with  claims  apparently 
equal.  In  the  vote  of  this  body  by  states, 
it  soon  appeared  that  the  federal  members 
had  it  in  their  power  to  determine  which 
of  the  two,  Jefferson  or  Burr,  should  be 
president.  Many  violent  federal  parti 
sans  were  inclined  to  throw  a  brand  of 
discord  into  the  republican  party,  by  con 
ferring  the  dignity  on  Burr;  and  he  is 


accused  of  intriguing  with  them  for  the 
purpose. 

It  is  believed  that  Burr,  from  this  time 
forth,  became  Hamilton's  mortal  foe,  and 
watched  for  an  occasion  to  get  rid  of  such 
a  rival.  In  the  careful  account  given  by 
Hildreth,  of  the  subsequent  progress  of 
this  feud, — a  portion  of  which  is  here  cited, 
— he  mentions,  primarily,  the  two  well- 
known  letters  written  by  Dr.  Cooper,  a 
zealous  partisan,  in  one  of  which  it  is 
alleged  that  Hamilton  had  spoken  of  Burr 
as  a  dangerous  man,  who  ought  not  to  be 
trusted  with  the  reins  of  government.  In 
the  other  letter,  after  repeating  the  above 
statement,  Cooper  added  that  he  could  de 
tail  a  still  more  despicable  opinion  which 
General  Hamilton  had  expressed  of  Mr. 
Burr. 

Upon  this  latter  passage,  the  historian 
asserts,  Burr  seized  as  the  means  of  forcing 
Hamilton  into  a  duel.  For  his  agent  and 
assistant  therein  he  selected  William  P. 
Van  Ness,  a  young  lawyer,  one  of  his  most 
attached  partisans,  and  not  less  dark,  de 
signing,  cool,  and  implacable  than  himself. 
Van  Ness  was  sent  to  Hamilton  with  a 
copy  of  Cooper's  printed  letter,  and  a  note 
from  Burr,  insisting  upon  a  prompt  and 
unqualified  acknowledgment  or  denial  of 
the  use  of  any  expressions  which  would 
warrant  Cooper's  assertions. 

Hamilton  expressed  a  perfect  readiness  to 
avow  or  disavow  any  specific  opinion  which 
he  might  be  charged  with  having  uttered  ; 
but  added  that  he  never  would  consent  to  be 
interrogated  generally  as  to  whether  he  had 
ever  said  anything  in  the  course  of  fifteen 
years  of  political  competition  to  justify  in 
ferences  which  others  might  have  drawn, 
thus  exposing  his  candor  and  sincerity  to 
injurious  imputations  on  the  part  of  all 
who  might  have  misapprehended  him. 

"More  than  this,"  said  Hamilton  in  the 
conclusion  of  his  letter  to  Burr,  "  can  not 
fitly  be  expected  of  me ;  especially,  it  can 
not  be  reasonably  expected  that  I  shall 
enter  into  any  explanations  upon  a  basis 
so  vague  as  that  you  have  adopted.  I 
trust,  on  more  reflection,  you  will  see  the 
matter  in  the  same  light.  If  not,  I  can 


192 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


only  regret  the  circumstance,  and  must 
abide  the  consequences." 

Burrs  curt,  rude,  and  offensive  reply 
began  with  intimating  that  Hamilton's 
letter  was  greatly  deficient  in  that  sincer 
ity  and  delicacy  which  he  professed  so 
much  to  value.  The  epithet  in  question, 
in  the  common  understanding  of  it,  im 
plied  dishonor.  It  having  been  affixed  to 
Burr's  name  upon  Hamilton's  authority, 
he  was  bound  to  say  whether  he  had  au 
thorized  it,  either  directly,  or  by  uttering 
expressions  or  opinions  derogatory  to 
Burr's  honor. 

It  was  apparent  from  this  letter,  and  it 
was  subsequently  distinctly  stated  by  Van 
Ness,  that  what  Burr  required  was  a  gen 
eral  disavowal  on  the  part  of  Hamilton,  of 
any  intention,  in  any  conversation  he 
might  ever  have  held,  to  convey  impres 
sions  derogatory  to  the  honor  of  Burr. 
Desirous  to  deprive  Burr  of  any  possible 
excuse  for  persisting  in  his  murderous 
designs,  Hamilton  caused  a  paper  to  be 
transmitted  to  him,  through  Pendleton,  a 
brother  lawyer,  who  acted  as  his  friend  in 
this  matter,  to  the  effect  that,  if  properly 
addressed — for  Burr's  second  letter  was 
considered  too  insulting  to  admit  of  a  reply 
— he  should  be  willing  to  state  that  the 
conversation  alluded  to  by  Dr.  Cooper,  so 
far  as  he  could  recall  it,  was  wholly  in  re 
lation  to  politics,  and  did  not  touch  upon 
Burr's  private  character;  nor  should  he 
hesitate  to  make  an  equally  prompt  avowal 
or  disavowal  as  to  any  other  particular  and 
•pecific  conversation  concerning  which  he 
might  be  questioned. 

But  as  Burr's  only  object  was  to  find  a 
pretext  for  a  challenge, — since  he  never 
could  have  expected  the  general  disavowal 
he  demanded,  this  offer  was  pronounced 
unsatisfactory  and  evasive;  and  again,  a 
second  time,  disavowing  in  the  same  breath 
the  charge  made  against  him  of  predeter 
mined  hostility,  Burr  requested  Van  Ness 
to  deliver  a  challenge. 

The  eleventh  of  July,  at  seven  in  the 
morning,  was  the  time  mutually  agreed 
upon  for  the  duel ;  the  place,  Weehawken, 
New  Jersey,  opposite  the  city  of  New  York ; 


the  weapons  to  be  pistols,  and  the  distance 
ten  paces.  In  the  meantime,  Hamilton  and 
Burr  met  once  more  at  the  convivial  board, 
namely,  at  the  annual  banquet  of  the  Soci 
ety  of  the  Cincinnati,  of  which  Hamilton 
was  president  and  Burr  a  member.  It  is 
related  that  on  this  occasion  Hamilton  was 
cheerful,  and  at  times  merry.  He  was 
urged,  as  the  feast  wore  away,  to  sing  the 
only  song  he  ever  sang  or  knew,  the 
famous  old  ballad  of  "The  Drum."  It 
was  thought  afterward,  that  he  was  more 
reluctant  than  usual  to  comply  with  the 
company's  request ;  but  after  some  delay, 
he  said,  "  Well,  you  shall  have  it,"  and 
sang  it  in  his  best  manner,  greatly  to  the 
delight  of  the  old  soldiers  by  whom  he 
was  surrounded.  Burr,  on  the  contrary, 
was  reserved,  and  mingled  little  with  the 
company,  and  held  no  intercourse  what 
ever  with  the  president.  He  was  never  a 
fluent  man,  and  was  generally,  in  the  soci 
ety  of  men,  more  a  listener  than  a  talker. 
On  this  occasion,  his  silence  was,  there 
fore,  the  less  remarked;  yet  it  was  re 
marked.  It  was  observed,  too,  that  he 
paid  no  attention  to  Hamilton's  conversa 
tion,  nor,  indeed,  looked  toward  him,  until 
he  struck  up  his  song,  when  Burr  turned 
toward  him,  and,  leaning  upon  the  table, 
looked  at  the  singer  until  the  song  was 
done. 

The  fatal  morning  came.  Colonel  Burr 
arrived  first  on  the  ground,  as  had  been 
previously  agreed.  He  deliberately  took 
off  his  coat,  surveyed  the  ground,  and 
then  cleared  away  the  bushes,  limbs  of 
trees,  etc.  When  General  Hamilton  ar 
rived,  the  parties  exchanged  salutations, 
and  the  seconds  proceeded  to  make  their 
arrangements.  They  measured  the  dis 
tance,  full  ten  paces,  and  cast  lots  for  the 
choice  of  position,  as  also  to  determine  by 
whom  the  word  should  be  given,  both  of 
which  fell  to  the  seconds  of  Hamilton. 
They  then  proceeded  to  load  the  pistols  in 
each  other's  presence,  after  which  the 
parties  took  their  stations. 

The  gentleman  who  was  to  give  the 
word  now  explained  to  the  parties  the 
rules  which  were  to  govern  them  in  firing, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


193 


8CEXE  OF  THE  BURR  AND  HAMILTON  DUEL,  \VEEHA\VKEN. 


which  were  as  follows  :  (  The  parties  being 
placed  at  their  stations,  the  second  who 
gives  the  word  shall  ask  them  whether 
they  are  ready ;  being  answered  in  the 
affirmative,  he  shall  say  Present;  after 
this,  the  parties  shall  present  and  fire 
when  they  please.  If  one  fires  before 
the  other,  the  opposite  second  shall  say, 
One,  two,  three,  fire  ; — and  lie  shall  then 
fire,  or  lose  his  fire.'  He  then  asked  if 
they  were  prepared;  being  answered  in 
the  affirmative,  he  gave  the  word  Present, 
as  had  been  agreed  on,  and  both  parties 
presented  and  fired  in  succession.  The 
fire  of  Burr  took  effect;  Hamilton  sprang 
upon  his  toes  with  a  convulsive  movement, 
13 


reeled  a  little  toward  the  heights,  at  which 
moment  he  involuntarily  discharged  his 
pistol,  and  then  fell  headlong  upon  his  face, 
and  remained  motionless  upon  the  ground. 
His  ball  rustled  among  the  branches,  seven 
feet  above  the  head  of  his  antagonist,  and 
four  feet  wide  of  him.  Burr  heard  it, 
looked  up,  and  saw  where  it  had  severed  a 
twig.  Looking  at  Hamilton,  he  beheld 
him  falling,  and  advanced  towards  him 
with  a  manner  and  gesture  that  appeared 
to  be  expressive  of  regret,  but  without 
speaking  turned  about  and  withdrew, 
being  urged  from  the  field  by  his  friend. 
No  further  communication  took  place  be 
tween  the  principals,  and  the  barge  that 


194 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


carried  Colonel  Burr  immediately  left  the 
Jersey  shore  for  New  York. 

Hamilton  was  at  once  borne  away  ten 
derly  in  the  arms  of  Pendleton,  and  his 
necessities  ministered  to  by  Dr.  Hosack. 
He  had,  at  this  moment,  just  strength 
enough  to  say,  "This  is  a  mortal  wound, 
doctor ; "  when  he  sank  away,  and  became 
to  all  appearance  lifeless.  "My  vision  is 
indistinct,"  were  his  first  words.  Soon 
after  recovering  his  sight,  lie  happened  to 
cast  his  eye  upon  the  case  of  pistols,  and 
observing  the  one  he  had  used  lying  on 
the  outside,  he  said : 

"  Take  care  of  that  pistol ;  it  is  undis 
charged,  and  still  cocked ;  it  may  go  off 
and  do  harm  ; — Pendleton  knows  (attempt 
ing  to  turn  his  head  towards  him)  that  I 
did  not  intend  to  fire  at  him." 

"  Yes,  I  have  already  made  Dr.  Hosack 
acquainted  with  your  determination  as  to 
that,"  replied  Pendleton. 

On  approaching  the  shore,  he  said,  "  Let 
Mrs.  Hamilton  be  immediately  sent  for ; 
let  the  event  be  gradually  broken  to  her ; 
but  give  her  hopes."  His  friend,  Mr. 
Bayard,  stood  on  the  wharf  in  great  agita 
tion,  and,  on  seeing  Hamilton  lying  in  the 
bottom  of  the  boat,  he  threw  up  his  arms 
and  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears  and  lamen 
tation.  Hamilton  alone  appeared  tranquil 
and  composed.  On  being  put  to  bed,  a 
consultation  of  physicians  was  held,  who 
united  in  the  opinion  that  there  was  no 
chance  of  his  recovery.  General  Key,  the 
French  consul,  also  had  the  goodness  to 
invite  the  surgeons  of  the  French  frigates 
then  in  New  York  harbor,  as  they  had  had 
much  experience  in  gun-shot  wounds,  to 
render  their  assistance.  They  immedi 
ately  came,  but  their  opinion  was  unani 
mous  as  to  the  hopelessness  of  the  case. 
The  ball  had  struck  the  second  or  third 
false  rib,  and  fractured  it  about  the  middle ; 
it  then  passed  through  the  liver  and 
the  diaphragm,  and  as  far  as  was  sub 
sequently  ascertained,  lodged  in  the  first 
or  second  lumbar  vertebra,  the  latter  being 
considerably  splintered,  so  that  the  spic- 
ulae  were  perceptible  to  the  touch  of  the 
finger. 


The  news  of  Hamilton's  fall,  and  prob 
ably  speedy  death,  by  a  duel  with  the  vice- 
president  of  the  United  States,  paralyzed 
the  whole  nation,  as  the  shocking  intelli 
gence  sped  itself  over  the  country.  In 
New  York,  especially,  bulletins,  hourly 
changed,  kept  the  city  in  agitation.  All 
the  circumstances  of  the  catastrophe  were 
told,  and  re-told,  at  every  corner.  The 
thrilling  scenes  that  were  passing  at  the 
bedside  of  the  dying  man,  the  consultation 
of  the  physicians,  the  arrival  of  the  stricken 
family,  Mrs.  Hamilton's  overwhelming 
sorrow,  the  resignation  and  calm  dignity 
of  the  illustrious  sufferer,  his  broken  slum 
bers  during  the  night,  the  piteous  specta 
cle  of  the  seven  children  entering  together 
the  awful  apartment, — all  these  produced 
an  impression  on  the  public  that  can  only 
be  imagined. 

At  General  Hamilton's  request,  Bishop 
Moore  and  Rev.  Dr.  Mason  visited  him  at 
his  bedside.  To  the  former  he  said  :  "  My 
dear  sir,  you  perceive  my  unfortunate  sit 
uation,  and  no  doubt  have  been  made 
acquainted  with  the  circumstances  which 
led  to  it.  It  is  my  desire  to  receive  the 
communion  at  your  hands.  I  hope  you 
will  not  conceive  there  is  any  impropriety 
in  my  request.  It  has  for  some  time  past 
been  the  wish  of  my  heart,  and  it  was  my 
intention  to  take  an  early  opportunity  of 
uniting  myself  to  the  church  by  the  recep 
tion  of  that  holy  ordinance."  Bishop 
Moore  observed  to  him,  that  he  must  be 
very  sensible  of  the  delicate  and  trying 
situation  in  which,  as  a  minister,  he  was 
then  placed;  that  however  desirous  he' 
might  be  to  afford  consolation  to  a  fellow 
mortal  in  distress,  still  it  was  his  duty  as 
an  ambassador  of  the  gospel,  to  hold  up  the 
law  of  God  as  paramount  to  all  other  law, 
and  that,  therefore,  he  must  unequivocally 
condemn  the  practice  which  had  brought 
him  to  his  present  unhappy  condition. 
Hamilton  acknowledged  the  propriety  of 
these  sentiments,  and  added,  "  1  have  no 
ill-will  against  Colonel  Burr.  I  mc.t  him 
with  a  fixed  determination  to  do  him  no 
harm.  I  forgive  all  that  happened" 
After  some  other  religious  conversation 


GKEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


195 


incident  to  the  occasion,  he  received  the 
sacrament  with  great  devotion,  expressing 
strong  confidence  in  divine  mercy.  In  his 
interview  with  Dr.  Mason,  he  exhibited 
the  same  spiritual  conviction,  and  repeated 
the  emphatic  testimony  he  had  given  to 
Bishop  Moore,  against  the  barbarous 
custom  of  dueling. 

The  next  day,  Thursday,  at  eleven 
o'clock,  being  about  thirty  hours  after 
receiving  the  fatal  wound,  Hamilton  em 
braced  his  wife  for  the  last  time,  then 
calmly  composed  himself  to  die,  and  ex 
pired  without  a  shudder  or  a  groan,  in  the 
prime  of  his  manhood,  being  forty-seven 
years  of  age. 

The  death  of  this  most  illustrious  states 
man  was  universally  deplored,  as  a  na 
tional  calamity  second  only  to  the  death  of 
Washington  himself;  and,  indeed,  on  ac 
count  of  the  tragical  circumstances  under 
which  the  great  patriot  was  brought  to 
his  end,  the  excitement  produced  through 
out  the  country  was,  if  possible,  more 
startling  and  profound  than  that  which 
followed  the  announcement  of  Washing 
ton's  decease.  In  the  city  of  New  York, 
the  most  imposing  funeral  ceremony  ever 
witnessed  in  America  revealed  the  unex 
ampled  grief  that  burdened  the  public 
mind.  All  business  was  suspended,  the 
bells  tolled  in  solemn  requiem,  public  meet 
ings  of  the  various  societies  were  held,  the 
ships  in  the  harbor  hoisted  their  flags  at 
half-mast,  and1  sorrow  was  depicted  on 
every  countenance. 

The  indignation  against  Burr  knew  no 
bounds.  His  fixed  determination  to  bring 
Hamilton  within  range  of  his  pistol,  feel 
ing  "sure  of  being  able  to  kill  him," 
caused  his  act  to  be  branded  as  willful 
murder,  and  an  indictment  was  duty  found 
against  him ;  but  in  a  few  days  he  fled,  an 
outlaw  and  an  outcast,  and  thus  eluded 
justice.  Burr's  execrable  heartlessness 
may  be  judged  of,  by  the  note  written  by 
him  to  Mr.  Allston,  his  son-in-law,  in  which 


he  said  :  "  General  Hamilton  died  yester 
day.  The  malignant  federalists  or  tories, 
and  the  embittered  Clintonians,  unite  in 
endeavoring  to  excite  public  sympathy  in 
his  favor  and  indignation  against  his  an 
tagonist.  Thousands  of  absurd  falsehoods 
are  circulated  with  industry.  The  most 
illiberal  means  are  practiced  in  order  to 
produce  excitement,  and  for  the  moment 
with  effect." 

One  week  before  the  time  fixed  upon  for 
the  duel,  Hamilton  prepared  a  letter  to  his 
wife,  to  be  handed  to  her  in  case  of  his 
death.  In  this  affecting  epistle,  he  assures 
her  that  he  had  striven  by  all  honorable 
means  to  avoid  the  meeting,  and  expects 
to  fall  in  it;  he  entreats  her  forgiveness 
for  the  calamity  his  death  would  bring 
upon  her,  and  conjures  her  to  meet  the 
blow  in  calm  submission  to  providence. 

Hamilton's  widow,  a  woman  of  rare 
excellence  and  dignity,  survived  him  some 
fifty  years.  Once  only  did  she  see  her 
husband's  murderer,  the  circumstances  of 
this  occasion  being  related  as  follows :  In 
the  year  1822,  she  Avas  traveling  from 
New  York  to  Albany,  on  one  of  the 
boats  plying  the  Hudson.  The  com 
pany  had  been  summoned  to  dinner. 
When  Mrs.  Hamilton  had  almost  reached 
her  seat  in  the  dining-saloon,  on  rais 
ing  her  eyes  she  perceived  Aaron  Burr 
standing  directly  opposite  to  her,  with 
only  the  narrow  width  of  the  table  between 
them.  The  shock  was  too  much  for  her 
system, — she  uttered  a  loud  scream,  fell, 
and  was  carried  in  a  fainting  state  from 
the  apartment.  As  soon  as  she  recovered, 
she  insisted  on  being  set  on  shore  at  the 
first  landing-place,  refusing  to  journey 
further  in  the  same  vessel  with  Burr.  It 
is  said,  that,  after  the  removal  of  Mrs. 
Hamilton  from  the  dining  saloon,  Burr 
deliberately  sat  down  and  ate  a  hearty 
dinner  with  the  utmost  composure.  This 
story,  however,  wears  an  air  of  improba 
bility. 


XIX. 

TOTAL   SOLAR  ECLIPSE   AT  MID-DAY.— 1806. 


The  Darkness  of  Night  Falls  upon  the  Earth. — Stars  and  Planets  in  Full  Radiance  — Magnificent  Spec 
tacle  of  the  Glittering  Corona  around  the  Moon  and  the  Brilliant  Rosy  Protuberances  Flaming  from 
the  Sun. — Splendor  of  the  Returning  Night. — Similar  Eclipse  in  18ti'J. — Millions  of  Faces  Turned 
Upward  — The  Phenomenon  Viewed  with  Curiosity,  Wonder,  and  Absorbed  Delight. — Remarkably 
Fine  VVeatber. — Serene  and  Cloudless  Heavens. — Business  Pursuits  Abandoned — The  Moon  Crossing 
the  Sun. — Distinctness  of  the  Lunar  Orb — Grand,  Dark,  Majestic,  Mighty. — Total  Obscurity  Some 
Five  Minutes. — Appearance  of  Nature — Sensations  Produced  in  the  Mind. — Involuntary  Exclama 
tions. — Effl-ct  on  Birds  and  Animals. — Triumphs  of  Astronomical  Science  — Exquisitely-Constructed 
Instruments  — Revelations  of  the  Spectroscope. — Great  Thermometrical  Changes. — Spots  on  the  Sun 
Examined — Openings  in  the  Moon. — Peculiar  Color  of  that  Body. — Its  Dark  and  Dismal  Shadows. — 
Search  for  New  Stars. — Meteors  'uiid  Earth  and  Moon. — Climax  of  the  Impressive  Scene. 


"The  unn'i  rim  dip«  ;  the  »tam  ru«h  out  1 

With  one  itride  come*  the  dark  1  "—  CULERIDOB. 


IMPLE  and  well  known  though  the  fact  may  be,  according  to  the  ex 
planations  of  astronomical  science,  that  a  solar  eclipse  is  caused  by  the 
intervention  of  the  moon  between  the  sun  and  the  earth  during  the 
daytime,  and  that  the  effect  of  such  interposition  is  to  obstruct  the 
sun's  rays — the  light  being  turned  into  darkness  while  the  phenome 
non  lasts — a  total  solar  eclipse  is,  without  doubt,  the  most  sublime  and  awe-inspiring 
spectacle  upon  which  the  eye  of  man  is  permitted  to  gaze.  By  far  the  most  remarkable 
exhibition  of  this  kind,  was  that  which  occurred  June  1C,  1806,  when  the  sun  in  the 
northern  states  was  totally  eclipsed  nearly  five  minutes,  about  half  an  hour  before  noon, 
the  width  of  the  moon's  shadow  being  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  or  about 
seventy-five  on  each  side  of  the  central  line.  Since  1800,  only  one  total  eclipse  of  the 
sun  occurred  in  the  Atlantic  States,  namely  in  South  Carolina  and  Georgia,  November 
30,  1834;  but  the  eclipse  of  June  1C,  180G,  is  regarded  by  astronomers  as  the  most 
memorable  ever  known  in  the  United  States, — that  of  August  7,  I860,  being  the  next 
in  grandeur  and  interest. 

The  .accounts  given  by  Chancellor  De  Witt,  of  New  York,  Dr.  Bowditch,  of  Massa 
chusetts,  and  others,  of  the  phenomenon  of  1806,  show  that  its  approach  was  most  anx 
iously  watched,  and,  as  it  was  to  be  seen  all  over  Europe  and  North  America,  the  gaze 
of  the  people  of  both  hemispheres  was,  on  that  day,  simultaneously  directed  toward  the 
great  luminary  and  center  of  the  physical  system.  Some  of  the  most  remarkable  observ 
ations  made  by  Dr.  Bowditch,  of  Salem,  Mass ,  will  here  be  given. 

Fortunately  for  the  interests  of  science,  the  day  was  one  of  remarkably  fine  weather, 
scarcely  a  cloud  being  visible  in  any  part  of  the  heavens.  An  assistant  was  seated 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


197 


near  the  doctor,  who  counted  the  seconds 
from  the  chronometer,  thus  enabling  Dr. 
Bowditch  to  mark  down  with  a  pencil  the 
time  when  the  first  impression  was  made 
on  the  sun's  limb,  without  taking  his  eye 
from  the  telescope  till  four  or  five  seconds 
had  elapsed,  and  the  eclipse  had  sensibly 
increased.  As  the  eclipse  advanced,  there 
did  not  appear  to  be  so  great  a  diminution 
of  the  light  as  was  generally  expected,  and 
it  was  not  until  the  sun  was  nearly  cov 
ered,  that  the  darkness  was  very  sensible. 
At  thirty-seven  minutes  and  thirty  seconds 
past  eleven  o'clock,  the  sun's  surface  was 
wholly  covered.  The  last  ray  of  light  from 
the  sun's  limb  disappeared  instantaneously. 
The  whole  of  the  moon  was  then  seen  sur 
rounded  by  a  luminous  appearance  of  con 
siderable  extent,  such  as  had  generally 
been  noticed  in  total  eclipses  of  the  sun. 
This  luminosity,  Avith  a  twilight  bright 
ness  round  the  horizon,  prevented  the 
darkness  from  being  any  greater  than  it 
was,  during  the  time  that  the  sun's  sur 
face  remained  wholly  covered.  The  de 
gree  of  light  can  be  estimated,  on  such  an 
occasion,  by  the  number  of  stars  visible  to 
the  naked  eye  ;  those  noticed  at  this  time 
were  Capella,  Aldebaran,  Sirius,  Procyon, 
the  three  bright  stars  in  the  belt  of  Orion, 


TOTAL  SOLAR  ECLIPSE  IN   1806. 

and  the  star  a,  in  its  shoulder.  Venus 
and  Mars  were  also  visible.  A  candle  had 
been  provided  to  assist  in  reading  off  the 
seconds  from  the  chronometer,  but,  though 
it  was  not  found  necessary  in  the  garden 
where  these  observations  were  made,  it 
would  have  been  in  the  house  adjoining. 


As  the  time  drew  near  for  witnessing  the 
end  of  the  total  darkness,  there  was  no 
ticed  a  visible  increase  of  light  in  the  at 
mosphere  for  about  two  seconds  before  any 
part  of  the  sun's  limb  was  visible  in  the 
telescope ;  but  at  thirty-two  minutes  and 
eighteen  seconds  past  eleven  o'clock — the 
time  noted  as  that  of  the  end  of  total 
darkness,  —  the  light  burst  forth  with 
great  splendor.  After  this,  the  light  ap 
peared  to  increase  much  faster  than  it 
had  decreased,  and  in  a  short  time  it 
was  as  light  as  in  a  common  cloudy  day, 
the  degree  of  light  continually  increas 
ing,  of  course,  as  the  eclipse  drew  to  a 
close. 

The  impressions  made  by  such  an  exhi 
bition,  upon  different  minds,  are  not  the 
least  interesting  points,  in  a  narrative  like 
this.  Mr.  Cooper,  the  novelist,  though 
but  a  youth  at  the  time  of  the  eclipse,  was 
so  enthusiastic  an  observer  of  the  specta 
cle,  that,  twenty-five  years  after  the  event, 
he  wrote  a  minute  account  of  what  he 
saw  and  how  he  felt  during  the  wonderful 
occurrence.  Mr.  Cooper  states  that,  as  he 
and  the  other  spectators  in  his  company 
first  discerned,  through  their  glasses,  the 
oval  form  of  the  moon  darkening  the 
sun's  light,  an  exclamation  of  delight,  al 
most  triumphant,  burst  involuntarily  from 
the  lips  of  all.  Gradually,  and  at  first 
quite  imperceptibly  to  the  sight,  that  dark 
and  mysterious  sphere  gained  upon  the 
orb  of  light.  As  yet  (continues  Mr. 
Cooper),  there  was  no  change  perceptible 
in  the  sunlight  falling  upon  lake  and 
mountain ;  the  familiar  scene  wore  its 
usual  smiling  aspect,  bright  and  glowing 
as  on  other  days  of  June.  The  people, 
however,  were  now  crowding  into  the 
streets, — their  usual  labors  were  abandoned 
— forgotten  for  the  moment, — and  all  faces 
were  turned  upward.  Gradually  a  fifth, 
and  even  a  fourth,  of  the  sun's  disc  be 
came  obscured,  and  still  the  unguarded 
eye  could  not  endure  the  flood  of  light. 
The  noonday  heat,  however,  began  to 
lessen,  and  something  of  the  coolness  of 
early  morning  returned  to  the  valley. 
Soon,  a  somber,  yellowish,  unnatural  color- 


198 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


ing  was  shed  over  the  country.  A  great 
change  had  taken  place.  The  trees  on  the 
distant  heights  had  lost  their  verdure  and 
their  airy  character,  and  were  taking  the 
outline  of  dark  pictures  graven  upon  an 
unfamiliar  sky. 

The  startling  effect  of  such  an  abnormal 
transition    in   nature,    upon    animals  and 


PROGRESS  OF  THK  SOLAR  ECLIPSE. 


fowls,  and  even  upon  human  beings,  has 
sometimes  been  described  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  excite  well-grounded  suspi 
cions  of  exaggeration,  in  the  minds  of 
those  persons  to  whom  has  been  denied 
the  opportunity  of  personal  observation. 
But  Mr.  Cooper  states  that  "all  living 
creatures  seemed  thrown  into  a  state  of 
agitation.  The  birds  were  fluttering  to 
and  fro,  in  great  excitement;  they  seemed 
to  mistrust  that  this  was  not  the  gradual 
approach  of  evening,  and  were  undecided 
in  their  movements.  Even  the  dogs  be 
came  uneasy,  and  drew  closer  to  their  mas 
ters.  The  eager,  joyous  look  of  interest 
and  curiosity,  which  earlier  in  the  morning 
had  appeared  in  almost  every  countenance, 
was  now  changed  to  an  expression  of  won 
der,  or  anxiety,  or  thoughtfulness,  accord 
ing  to  the  individual  character.  Every 
house  now  gave  up  its  tenants.  As  the 
light  failed  more  and  more  with  every  pass 
ing  second,  the  children  came  flocking 
about  their  mothers  in  terror.  The  women 
themselves  were  looking  about  uneasily  for 
their  husbands.  The  men  were  very  gen 
erally  silent  and  grave.  Many  a  laborer 
left  his  employment  to  be  near  his  wife 
and  children,  as  the  dimness  and  darkness 


increased.  It  was  one  of  those  entirely  un 
clouded  days,  less  rare  in  America  than  in 
Europe.  The  steadily-waning  light,  the 
gradual  approach  of  darkness,  became  the 
more  impressive  as  we  observed  this  abso 
lutely  transparent  state  of  the  heavens.  The 
birds,  which  a  quarter  of  an  hour  earlier 
had  been  fluttering  about  in  great  agita 
tion,  seemed  now  to  be  convinced  that 
night  was  at  hand.  Swallows  were  dimly 
seen  dropping  into  the  chimneys,  the 
martins  returned  to  their  little  boxes,  the 
pigeons  flew  home  to  their  dove-cots,  and 
through  the  open  door  of  a  small  barn  we 
saw  the  fowls  going  to  roost.  The  usual 
flood  of  sunlight  had  now  become  so  much 
weakened,  that  we  could  look  upward  long, 
and  steadily,  without  the  least  pain.  The 
sun  appeared  like  a  young  moon  of  three 
or  four  days  old,  though  of  course  with  a 
larger  and  more  brilliant  crescent.  One 
after  another,  the  stars  came  into  view, 
more  rapidly  than  in  the  evening  twilight, 
until  perhaps  fifty  stars  appeared  to  iis,  in 
a  broad  dark  zone  of  the  heavens,  crown 
ing  the  pines  on  the  western  mountain. 
This  wonderful  vision  of  the  stars,  during 
the  noontide  hours  of  day,  filled  the  spirit 
with  singular  sensations.  Suddenly,  one 
of  my  brothers  shouted  aloud,  "The 
moon!"  Quicker  than  thought,  my  eye 
turned  eastward  again,  and  there  floated 
the  moon,  distinctly  apparent,  to  a  degree 
that  was  almost  fearful.  The  spherical 
form,  the  character,  the  dignity,  the  sub 
stance  of  the  planet,  were  clearly  revealed, 
as  I  have  never  beheld  them  before,  or 
since.  It  looked  grand,  dark,  majestic, 
and  mighty.  Darkness  like  that  of  early 
night  now  fell  upon  the  village.  A  few 
cows,  believing  that  night  had  overtaken 
them,  were  coming  homeward  from  the 
wild  open  pastures  ;  the  dew  was  falling 
perceptibly,  and  the  thermometer  must 
have  fallen  many  degrees  from  the  great 
heat  of  the  morning.  The  lake,  the  hills, 
and  the  buildings  of  the  little  town,  were 
swallowed  up  in  the  darkness.  All  labor 
had  ceased.  The  plaintive  note  of  the 
whippowil  was  distinctly  heard.  A  bat 
came  flitting  about  our  heads.  Many  stars 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


199 


were  now  visible.  At  twelve  minutes  past 
eleven,  the  moon  stood  revealed  in  its 
greatest  distinctness — a  vast  black  orb,  so 
nearly  obscuring  the  sun  that  the  face  of 
the  great  luminary  was  entirely  and  abso 
lutely  darkened,  though  a  corona  of  rays 
of  light  appeared  beyond.  The  gloom  of 
night  was  upon  us.  A  breathless  intensity 
of  interest  was  felt  by  all.  A  group  of 
silent,  dusky  forms  stood  near  me ;  one 
emotion  appeared  to  govern  all.  Three 
minutes  of  darkness,  all  but  absolute, 
elapsed.  They  appeared  strangeLy  length 
ened  by  the  intensity  of  feeling,  and  the 
flood  of  overpowering  thought  which  filled 
the  mind.''  Mr.  Cooper  concludes  this 
record  of  his  pleasing  recollections,  by 
stating  some  of  the  appearances  accompa 
nying  the  restoration  of  light,  and  the 
joyous  manifestations  on  the  part  of  those 
who  witnessed  it. 

The  calculations  made  and  recorded  by 
Bowditch,  show  that  the  beginning  of  the 
eclipse  was  at  six  minutes  and  twenty-four 
seconds  past  ten  o'clock  ;  the  beginning  of 
total  darkness  was  at  twenty-five  minutes 
and  twenty-six  seconds  past  eleven,  and 
it  ended  at  thirty  minutes  and  fourteen 
seconds  past  eleven ;  the  eclipse  ended 
at  fifty  minutes  and  forty-two  seconds 
past  twelve;  duration  of  the  eclipse,  two 
hours,  forty-four  minutes,  eighteen  sec 
onds  ;  duration  of  the  total  darkness,  four 
minutes  and  forty-eight  seconds.  In  the 
engraved  representation  of  this  magnifi 
cent  and  solemn  spectacle,  the  luminous 
ring  round  the  moon  is  exactly  as  it  ap 
peared  in  the  middle  of  the  eclipse.  The 
edge  of  the  moon  was  strongly  illumin 
ated,  exhibiting  the  brilliancy  of  polished 
silver. 

But,  though  the  eclipse  of  1806  was,  at 
least  in  the  duration  of  its  totality,  mem 
orable  above  all  precedent,  to  American 
observers,  the  total  eclipse  of  August  sev 
enth,  18G9,  was  destined  to  be  more  im 
portant  in  a  scientific  point  of  view,  and  to 
fill  a  more  prominent  place  in  history,  on 
account  of  the  great  progress  in  astronomi 
cal  knowledge  and  the  corresponding  im 
provement  in  all  the  instruments  of  tele 


scopic  observation,  characterizing  the  lapse 
of  more  than  three-score  years. 

Beginning  in  the  Pacific  ocean,  just  east 
of  Yeddo,  the  capital  of  Japan,  at  sunrise 
there,  the  shadow's  central  point  first 
struck  the  earth  in  the  Altair  mountain 
range  in  Russian  Asia,  one  hundred  and 
sixty-five  and  a  half  degrees  west  from 
Washington,  then  passing  in  a  northward 
curve  still,  entered  United  States  territory 
in  Alaska,  near  Prince  William's  sound, 
at  the  hour  of  noon.  Thence  it  rapidly 
traversed  British  Columbia,  hit  the  center 
of  Montana's  northern  line,  struck  the 
Mississippi  river  near  Sioux  City,  Iowa, 
passed  through  Illinois  just  north  of 
Springfield,  shaded  segments  of  Indiana, 
Kentucky,  Virginia,  Tennessee,  and  North 
Carolina,  and  ended  its  totality  in  mid- 
ocean.  The  course  of  the  eclipse  was  in 
the  form  of  an  ellipse,  and  the  extreme 
limits  of  the  obscuration  embraced  nearly 
one-half  the  earth's  circumference ;  while 
the  central  circular  patch  of  darkness  was 
about  one  hundred  and  fifty-six  miles  in 
diameter. 

Never  were  more  extensive  preparations 
made  by  governments  and  men  of  science, 
to  have  thorough  observations  of  a  solar 


TOTAL  ECLIPSE  IN  1869. 

eclipse,  than  at  this  time,  and  never  was 
the  weather  more  propitious  for  such  an 
event  to  be  noted,  in  all  its  phenomena. 

At  Springfield,  Illinois,  one  of  the  most 
available  spots  for  observation,  Professor 
Peirce,  of  Harvard  College,  was  in  attend 
ance.  When  the  total  obscuration  took 
place,  the  heavens  and  earth  presented  a 


200 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


scene  of  awful  sublimity.  A  brilliant 
amber-colored  corona  appeared  around  the 
sun  and  moon,  shooting  rays  of  light  out 
ward  in  all  directions,  when  the  whole  hori 
zon  was  illuminated  with  light  of  the  same 
color.  The  planets  Mercury  and  Venus,  and 
a  number  of  fixed  stars,  were  distinctly  visi 
ble,  but  no  planetary  orbs  between  Mercury 
and  the  sun  were  discovered.  A  brilliant 
rose-colored  flame,  or  protuberance,  was 
noticed  on  the  western  limb  of  the  sun  dur 
ing  the  period  of  total  obscuration.  The 
phenomenon,  known  as  Bailey's  beads,  was 
also  distinctly  witnessed.  According  to 
Prof.  Peirce,  the  last-named  appearance  is 
occasioned  by  the  refraction  of  light,  and 
the  corona,  or  halo,  at  the  time  of  totality, 
by  the  sun's  atmosphere. 

Des  Moines,  Iowa,  afforded  another  most 
favorable  locality  for  the  presence  of 
astronomers,  a  slight  haze  only  interfering 
to  prevent  satisfactory  search  for  the  plan 
ets  supposed  to  exist  inside  the  orbit  of 
Mercury.  Professor  Safford's  observations 
showed  that  the  first  contact  occurred  at 
three  o'clock,  forty-three  minutes,  forty- 
three  seconds  ;  the  commencement  of  the 
total  obscurity  was  at  four  o'clock,  forty- 
five  minutes,  thirty  seconds,  and  its  end 
was  at  four  o'clock,  forty-eight  minutes, 
twenty-two  seconds ;  the  iast  contact  was 
at  five  o'clock,  forty-five  minutes,  eleven 
seconds. 

The  points  of  time  thus  noted  by  Pro 
fessor  Safford,  were  from  six  to  twenty- 
two  seconds  later  than  calculated,  according 
to  Washington ;  E.  P.  Himenas  and  Pro 
fessor  Hillyard  observing  it.  A  discrep 
ancy  was  also  noticed  between  the  calcu 
lation  and  observation  of  the  corona.  It 
was  nearly  rhomboidal  in  form,  and  very 
distinct  and  extended,  at  some  points  half 
a  degree  beyond  the  edge  of  the  sun's 
disc.  The  rose-colored  protuberances  ap 
peared  to  the  number  of  five  or  six,  the 
greatest  being  on  the  sun's  south-western 
quarter.  Professor  Harkness's  observa 
tions  of  the  protuberances,  in  the  spectro 
scope,  showed  a  different  spectra  for  each. 
But  a  single  band  was  thrown  by  the  cor 
ona.  Professor  Eastman's  ob  nervations  of 


the  thermometer  showed  a  fall  of  thirteen 
degrees  in  the  temperature,  during  the 
progress  of  the  eclipse.  Venus  and  Mer 
cury  could  be  plainly  seen,  and  the  dark 
ness  exceeded  that  of  the  night.  But  the 
most  interesting  feature  in  the  aspect  of 
the  sun  was  the  protuberances  or  beads. 
The  largest  one  was  semi-circular  in  shape, 
with  a  finger  extending  about  one-eighth 
part  of  the  sun's  diameter,  directly  down 
ward  as  one  looked.  Another  right  limb 
was  shaped  much  like  two  horns  of  an  ante 
lope.  The  greatest  length  of  the  corona 
was  in  the  direction  of  the  elliptic.  Valu 
able  observations  were  also  made  here  by 
Professors  Peters,  Fraser,  Rogers,  Norton, 
and  Lane. 

Professors  Hough  and  Murray  made 
some  valuable  observations  at  Mattoon, 
Illinois,  one  of  their  instruments  being  pro 
vided  with  means  for  accurately  measuring 
the  diversions  of  the  protuberances  on  the 
sun  or  corona.  When  the  sun  became 
totally  obscured,  the  darkness  was  equal  to 
that  of  a  moonlight  night,  and  the  temper 
ature  was  forty-two  degrees  cooler  than  one 
hour  before.  Six  spots  were  visible  on  the 
surface  of  the  sun  before  the  eclipse,  two 
of  which  were  very  prominent,  and  the 
others  much  less.  The  cusps  on  the  moon 
had  a  ragged  and  blurred  appearance,  and, 
near  them,  Bailey's  beads  were  seen  by  all 
observers,  extending  through  an  arc  of 
fifty  degrees.  The  moment  the  eclipse 
became  total,  the  flame-like  protuberances 
were  seen  with  wonderful  distinctness,  one 
very  large  on  the  lower  limb  of  the  sun, 
and  three  nearly  as  large  on  the  upper 
limbs,  while  at  least  seven  or  eight  of 
them  in  all  were  visible.  The  one  on  the 
right  hand,  or  lower  limb,  had  somewhat 
the  appearance  of  a  full-rigged  ship  with 
sails  set.  In  its  part  nearest  the  moon 
were  two  or  three  jet  black  spots.  To  the 
naked  eye,  it  seemed  as  though  there  were 
openings  in  the  moon,  two  on  the  east  side 
and  one  on  the  south-west  side.  Just  after 
the  total  obscurity,  through  the  openings, 
the  lurid  glow  of  the  sun  was  plainly  visi 
ble.  The  corona  was  not,  as  generally 
described,  a  halo  of  light  surrounding  the 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


201 


moon,  but  appeared  in  the  shape  of  five 
forked  prongs  on  the  upper  circumference 
of  the  moon.  These  points  presented  a 
radiant  appearance.  The  generally-re 
ceived  theory  regarding  this  corona — that 
it  is  the  atmosphere  of  the  sun — did  not 
seem  to  be  sustained  by  the  observations 
made  at  this  point.  Although  search  was 
made,  no  planetary  bodies  were  observed 
between  Mercury  and  the  sun.  During  the 
totality  phase,  Mercury,  Venus,  Regulus, 
Mars,  Saturn,  Denebata,  and  other  stars, 
appeared  in  full  view.  The  temperature 
in  the  shade,  at  the  beginning  of  the 
eclipse,  was  seventy-seven  degrees  ;  during 
the  totality,  forty-five  degrees  ;  and  at  the 
end  of  the  eclipse,  it  had  risen  to  seventy 
degrees.  At  three  o'clock  and  forty  min 
utes,  in  the  sun,  en  the  grass,  the  ther 
mometer  was  at  one  hundred  degrees.  At 
a  few  minutes  after  four,  it  rose  to  one 
hundred  and  two  degrees,  while  during  the 
totality  it  fell  to  sixty,  but  subsequently 
rose  to  eighty. 

Dr.  B.  A.  Gould  and  Professor  Coffin 
had  charge  of  the  observations  made  at 
Burlington,  Iowa,  by  direction  of  the 
United  States  government,  with  whom 
were  also  associated  Professors  Morton, 
Mayer,  Hines,  Watson,  Merriman,  Van 
Fleck,  Johnson,  and  others,  either  as  ob 
servers  or  visitors.  Two  points  were  paid 
special  attention  to  at  this  place,  namely, 
a  search  for  those  planets  which  Leverrier 
supposed  to  exist  between  the  sun  and 
Mercury,  and  the  character  of  the  corona. 

For  this  purpose,  a  telescope  of  peculiar 
construction  was  employed,  being  of  the 
least  magnifying  power  combined  with  the 
greatest  intensity  of  light  possible.  The 
attempts  at  measuring  the  corona  were 
necessarily  vague,  but  its  height  above  the 
edge  of  the  moon  was  computed  at  full  six 
teen  minutes, —  some  four  hundred  and 
forty  thousand  miles, — while  the  stream 
ers,  or  longer  projections  of  its  light, 
extended  some  thirty  minutes  beyond  the 
surface,  the  whole  diameter  of  the  sun 
being  thirt}--two  minutes.  The  color  of 
the  moon  during  the  total  obscuration  was 
observed,  and  decided  to  be  not  jet  black, 


as  represented  by  some,  but  a  dark  slate 
color.  The  corona  was  an  exquisitely  pure 
white,  which,  as  it  faded  into  the  dark 
background  of  the  sky,  became  gray.  It 
was  visible  one  minute  and  twenty-six 
seconds  before  totality,  and  one  minute 
after,  and  was  extremely  variable  in  sym 
metry  of  form.  Three  sketches  were 
taken  in  less  than  three  minutes  of  the 
duration,  in  which  the  corona  showed 
marked  change  of  outline.  The  protuber 
ances  commonly  called  rosy,  by  observers 
at  other  places,  here  looked  white  to  the 
naked  eye,  with  an  opera-glass  slightly  ro 
seate,  and  with  the  telescope  red.  At  the 
moment  of  totality,  the  planets  were  visi 
ble,  ranged  in  perfect  brilliancy ;  Mercury, 
ruddjr  as  Mars,  and  Arcturus  and  Regulus, 
fixed  stars  of  the  first  magnitude,  were 
plain  to  the  unassisted  eye.  The  right 
protuberance  on  the  sun's  lower  limb  had 
a  cellular  or  honey-combed  appearance,  not 
like  a  flame. 

In  the  search  made  at  Burlington  for 
intra-mercurial  planets,  the  light  was  shut 
off  of  the  corona  by  means  of  occulting 
circles,  a-nd  the  region  was  carefully  stud 
ied.  Search  was  made  for  the  star  Pi  Le- 
onis,  a  fixed  star  of  five  and  eight-tenths 
magnitude,  fifty  minutes  distance  from  the 
sun,  and  it  was  actually  seen,  yet  so  faint, 
that,  if  it  had  not  been  known  to  be  there, 
it  could  not  have  been  discovered.  If 
there  were  any  star  of  the  fifth  or  sixth 
magnitude  there,  it  would  have  been 
observed ;  but  no  such  star  could  be 
detected. 

Great  preparations  were  made  at  Shcl- 
byville,  Kentucky,  for  a  complete  observ 
ance  of  the  phenomenon.  One  of  the 
most  interesting  discoveries  made  here,  by 
Professor  Winlock,  at  the  spectroscope, 
was  that  of  eleven  bright  lines  in  the 
spectrum  of  the  protuberances  of  the  sun, 
instead  of  the  smaller  number  hitherto 
determined.  He  also  observed  a  shower 
of  meteors  between  the  earth  and  moon. 
The  beautiful  protuberances  appeared  as 
red  flames,  and  were  seen  by  the  naked 
eye.  Bailey's  beads,  as  well  as  the  dark 
and  dismal  shadows  of  the  moon,  sailing 


202 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


away  through  the  air,  were  noted.  Mr. 
Searle,  whose  specialty  it  was  to  search 
for  intra-mercurial  planets,  did  not  succeed 
in  finding  any,  reporting  nothing  fainter 
than  Regulus  near  the  sun.  Some  mo 
ments  before  the  total  phase,  the  usual 
phenomena  of  distraction  among  the  birds 
of  the  air  and  the  cattle  occurred.  Six 
minutes  before  totality,  a  deathly  ashen 
hue  overspread  the  countenances  of  all, 


ECL1I-8E,  AS  BKKN  IN   BRAZIL. 

and  for  a  while  the  faint-hearted  were 
almost  terrified.  The  general  phenomena 
at  all  the  places  where  the  eclipse  was 
complete,  or  nearly  so,  were  the  vacilla 
tion  of  the  wind,  the  deep,  strange  shadow, 
the  yellowish  pink  atmosphere  in  the  west, 
the  flickering  and  wavy  appearance  of  the 
sun's  rays  when  the  eclipse  was  at  its 
height,  the  chilly  feeling,  the  disturbance 
among  the  birds  and  fowls,  and  the  sight 
of  certain  planets  with  the  naked  eye. 

At  Newbern,  North  Carolina,  the  ther 
mometer  fell  ten  and  one-half  degrees, 
during  the  time  from  first  contact  to  total 
obscuration.  The  sky  was  intensely  blue, 
at  totality,  and  studded  with  glittering 
stars,  while  the  north-west  glowed  with  a 
deep  crimson  orange  hue.  Around  the 
black  body  of  the  moon  glowed  a  ring  of 
molten  silver,  whence  radiated  the  corona, 
an  immense  halo;  and,  just  as  the  last 
rays  of  the  sun  disappeared,  this  halo, 
with  prominent  projections  like  a  huge 
star,  burst  out  all  around  the  disc  of  the 
moon,  forming  a  most  impressive  climax 
to  the  whole  phenomenon  ;  directlv  at  the 
bottom,  glowed  with  intense  brilliancy  a 


rose-colored  projection,  visible  to  the  naked 
eye;  a  few  seconds  more,  and  another 
glittered  at  the  extreme  right — and  then 
another,  and,  successively,  six  or  more 
pale  ruby  brilliants  burned  with  daz/ling 
effulgence  in  their  silver  setting;  a  second 
or  two  more,  and  the  silvering  on  the  right 
melted  into  golden  beads;  another,  and 
the  glorious  sunlight  flashed  forth.  The 
corona  disappeared.  The  northern  sky 
was  radiant  with  a  new  daj'-break  at  six 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the  dark  shadow 
of  the  moon  swept  southward,  and  the 
chilly  gloominess  rolled  away  into  the 
southern  sky.  The  small  amount  of  light 
that  fell  upon  the  trees  and  buildings,  just 
before  and  after  the  total  obscuration, 
lighted  them  up  with  a  brilliancy  most 
peculiar;  the  light  was  more  diffusive 
than  moonlight,  and  the  shadows  were 
more  distinctly  marked  and  visible.  It 
was  a  pule  golden  light ;  the  edges  of  the 
distant  woods  were  more  apparent  than  in 
the  full  sunlight,  each  tree  seeming  to 
stand  out  by  itsdf, — the  nearest  approach 
to  such  a  light  being  that  known  as  the 
calcium,  the  latter,  however,  leing  white 
instead  of  pale  golden.  At  the  instant  of 
complete  obscuration,  when  the  corona 
flashed  around  the  dark  disc  of  the  moon, 
there  also  flashed  into  view  the  larger  stars 
and  planets.  Venus,  twice  an  evening 
star  in  one  da}-,  hung  half-way  down  from 
the  zenith;  near  the  sun  glistened  a  star 
of  the  first  magnitude,  Regulus ;  while 
overhead  the  intense  blue  sky  was  full  of 
them. 

Much  scientific  interest  centered  around 
the  expedition  sent  by  government  to  the 
new  and  distant  territory  of  Alaska.  This 
expedition  left  Sitka,  July  15th,  in  an 
open  boat,  for  the  Chilkah  river,  but,  in 
consequence  of  bad  weather,  it  was  eleven 
days  in  reaching  the  positions  selected — 
only  twenty  miles  from  the  central  path  of 
totality.  It  was  found  impracticable  to 
carry  the  instruments  and  provisions  over 
Iron  Mountain  range,  for  the  determina 
tion  of  the  latitude  and  longitude  and  the 
magnetic  variation  obtained,  before  the 
date  of  the  eclipse.  The  seventh  of 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


203 


August  was  the  cloudiest  Jay  experienced, 
but  breaks  in  the  clouds  enabled  the  party 
to  watch  different  phases,  and  the  begin 
ning  of  totality  was  accurately  noted.  In 
stantly  after  obscuration,  rose-colored 
flames  were  visible  to  the  unassisted  eye, 
and  their  extent,  position,  elevation,  and 
approximity,  measured  on  the  south-east 
and  south-west  parts  of  the  sun's  limb. 
The  corona  was  visible  over  a  part  of  the 
limb  only.  The  end  of  the  eclipse  was  not 
seen,  but  the  whole  picture  was  magnifi 
cent.  The  phenomena  of  coming  darkness 
and  growing  light  were  very  marked  along 
the  course  of  the  valley.  The  Hon.  W. 
H.  Seward,  and  his  accompanying  tourists, 
visited  Professor  Davidson's  camp,  and 
watched  with  intense  interest  and  solemn 
delight  the  phases  of  the  eclipse,  particu 
larly  the  rose-colored  flames  and  corona. 
A  party  at  the  mouth  of  the  river  had  the 
best  view  of  the  totality ;  the  clouds  broke, 
and  a  large  clear  space  enabled  them  to  see 
the  flames  and  corona,  in  their  marvelous 
beauty,  also  the  planet  Mercury,  and  star"? 
of  the  fourth  magnitude.  At  Sitka,  the 
eclipse  was  watched  through  broken 
clouds.  The  Indians  were  fearfully 
alarmed,  and  hid  themselves  in  their 
houses,  or  took  to  the  bushes. 

As  usual,  on  the  occurrence  of  such  a 


wonderful  sight,  some  strange  incidents 
transpired.  In  his  account  of  the  observa 
tions  made  by  Professor  Watson,  at  Mount 
Pleasant,  Iowa,  Professor  Tyler  narrates 
the  case  of  a  good  man  who  went  round 
the  town  for  days  beforehand,  and  de 
nounced  the  impiety  of  the  scientific  pro 
ceedings  going  on — that  the  astronomers 
were  profanely  attempting  to  pry  into 
God's  secrets,  and  that  he  had  veiled  his 
sun  in  order  to  baffle  them.  The  cloudy 
weather  which  continued  up  to  the  last 
day  seemed  to  give  some  support  to  his 
declarations ;  but,  notwithstanding  his 
assertion  that  God  would  keep  his  rain 
a-going,  and  prevent  the  use  of  their  irre 
ligious  telescopes,  the  day  cleared  off  with 
the  utmost  splendor.  Another  local 
prophet  announced  that  the  eclipse  was  a 
judgment  upon  the  world  for  its  abomina 
tions,  and  that  the  path  of  its  shadow  over 
the  earth  would  be  marked  by  utter  blight. 
But  these  deluded  prophets  of  evil  were, 
indeed,  rare  exceptions ;  millions  of  man 
kind  watched,  with  reverential  and  de 
lighted  satisfaction,  the  obedience  of  the 
two  great  luminaries  to  the  eternal  laws 
which  govern  their  existence;  and  Science, 
the  hand-maid  and  interpreter  of  Nature, 
gave  new  assurance  of  her  sublime  and 
beneficent  mission. 


XX. 


CONSPIRACY  AND  TRIAL  OF  AARON  BURR.— 1SOG. 


Lawless  Scheme  of  Conquest  and  Dominion  at  the  South-west.  —  A  New  Empire  Contemplated, 
with  Burr  as  Sovereign.  —  Seizure  of  His  Flotilla  and  Dispersion  of  His  Men  when  I?pady 
to  Embark,  by  the  Federal  Forces.  —  Capture  nnd  Arraignment  of  Burr  for  High  Trea 
son.  —  Ueckless  Character  of  Burr. — His  Unscrupulous  Ambitions.  —  Enlists  Blennerhascett  in 
His  Plans.  —  Their  Expedition  Arranged  — Mexico  the  Ultimate  Point  — Discovery  of  the 
Whole  Plot  — Its  Complete  Frustration.  —  Burr  Flees  in  Disguise. — Scene  at  His  Arrest. — 
Attempt  to  Escape.  —  The  Iron-hearted  Man  in  Tears.  —  His  Social  Fascination.  —  Preparations 

for  the  Trial. — Its  Legal  and  Forensic  In 
terest — Acquittal  on  Technical  Grounds. — 
Shunned  as  a  Man  of  Infamy  — Devotion  of 
His  Daughter  Theodosia — Lifelong  nnd  Un 
alterable  Love  — Her  Mysterious  Fate. — 
Burr's  Anguish  and  Agony. —  A  Moral 
Wreck  and  Warning. 


"  Ilia  country's  curse,  his  children's  shame, 
Outcast  of  viituc,  peucc,  un.1  fume." 


8  events  proved,  it  remained  for  Aaron  Burr  to  add  one  more 
political  crime  to  his  corrupt  career  as  a  public  man,  and  one 
more  dark  chapter  to  his  country's  history.  Staggering  under  the  weight  of  ob 
loquy  and  disgrace  brought  down  upon  him  by  his  cold-blooded  disposal  of  Alex 
ander  Hamilton,  on  the  fatal  plains  of  Weehawken,  lie  still  sought  some  means  of 
triumphing  over  his  enemies  and  attaining  distinction  and  power.  Strong  nnd 
resolute  in  the  operations  of  his  ever-active  mind,  his  ambition  was  equally  restless 
and  far-reaching.  Abandoned  by  his  once-admiring  political  associates,  he  became  an 
exile,  in  one  of  the  then  far-ol'f  western  states,  his  brain  teeming  with  schemes  of 
wealth,  conquest,  and  dominion. 

In  the  autumn  of  1806,  President  Jefferson  learned  that  mysterious  proceedings 
were  going  on  along  the  Ohio  :  boats  preparing,  stores  of  provisions  collecting,  and 
a  number  of  suspicious  characters  in  movement.  A  confidential  agent  sent  by  the 
government  authorities  to  the  spot,  warned  the  president  that  Burr  was  the  prime 
mover;  and  General  Wilkinson,  who  commanded  near  New  Orleans,  intimated  that 
propositions  of  a  daring  and  dangerous  import  had  been  transmitted  to  him  by 
that  personage.  The  ostensible  pretext  was,  the  forming  of  a  large  agricultural 
settlement  on  the  banks  of  the  Washita  in  Louisiana,  a  tributary  of  the  Mississippi ; 
but  the  various  preparations,  the  engagement  for  six  months  only,  the  purchase 
and  building  of  boats,  the  provision  of  muskets  and  bayonets,  pointed  to  something 
of  a  very  different  character — either  the  formation  of  the  western  territory  into  a 
separate  government,  or  an  expedition  against  Mexico,  sought  to  be  justified  by  a 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


205 


boundary  difference  that  had  arisen  with 
Spain.  In  fact,  the  erection  of  a  new 
empire,  with  Burr  at  its  head. 

Burr's  chief  associate  in  the  plans  which 
he  had  thus  formed  was  Harman  Blenner- 
hassett,  and  the  story  of  their  acquain 
tance,  friendship  and  confederation, 
borders  strongly  on  the  romantic.  Blen- 
nerhassett  was  one  of  the  Irish  patriots 
who  were  compelled  to  flee  from  Ireland 
after  their  attempt  to  liberate  themselves 
from  the  thralldom  of  England,  and  was 
the  classmate  and  friend  of  the  celebrated 
Thomas  Addis  Emmett.  He  was  pos 
sessed  of  a  large  amount  of  property,  the 
greater  part  of  which  he  was  fortunate 
enough  to  render  available  in  money 
before  his  departure.  Disgusted  with  the 
corruption  of  courts,  and  glad  to  escape 
the  turmoil  of  politics,  he  sought  retire 
ment  in  the  western  wilderness,  on  a  beau 
tiful  island  in  the  Ohio,  then  on  the 
borders  of  civilization.  Here  he  built  a 
princely  mansion,  and  embellished  it  in  a 
most  costly  manner.  Situated  on  the 
borders  of  Virginia,  Kentucky  and  Ohio, 
he  had  access  to  very  refined  society,  with 
which  it  was  his  custom  constantly  to 
intermingle  and  exchange  civilities.  His 
hospitality  was  unbounded  ;  and,  dealt  out 
as  it  was  by  his  own  chivalric  courtesy 
and  the  grace  of  his  beautiful  wife,  his 
island  became  the  general  resort  for  all 
the  country  around,  and  it  is  even  yet  cel 
ebrated  for  the  splendid  revelries  and 
entertainments  of  which  it  was  once  the 
scene. 

Blennerhassett  was  a  fine  sample  of  a 
polished  Irish  gentleman,  and  rendered 
himself  a  very  affectionate  object  of  regard, 
by  the  amenity  of  his  manners  and  his 
disposition.  His  lady  was  a  woman  of 
rare  beauty  and  accomplishments,  which 
were  heightened  by  a  pure  and  unimpeach 
able  character.  She  reigned  the  queen  of 
this  beautiful  kingdom  of  taste  and  refine 
ment  which  Blennerhassett  had  created  on 
the  Ohio  ;  and,  according  to  contemporary 
accounts,  she  deported  herself  with  an  ele 
gance  and  dignity  that  might  have  become 
a  throne.  She  was  also  a  woman  of  high 


spirit  and  ambition,  and  when  Burr,  aware 
of  her  commanding  influence  over  her  hus 
band,  confidentially  intrusted  her  with  his 
plans,  she  was  fired  with  the  boldness  and 
intrepidity  of  his  enterprise,  and  immedi 
ately  determined  to  engage  her  husband  as 
an  associate.  Blennerhassett,  being  a 
man  of  ductile  temper,  was  easily  induced 
by  the  dazzling  representations  of  prospec 
tive  glory  and  honor  which  were  set  before 
him,  to  become  a  participator  with  Burr. 
He  was,  moreover,  a  liberalist  of  the 
French  school,  of  which  fact  Aaron  Burr 
was  well  aware  ;  and  it  would  seem  that 
the  gorgeous  picture  which  Burr  held  up 
to  him,  of  Mexico  redeemed  from  tyranny 
by  their  united  efforts,  inspired  his  whole 
nature,  as  he  entered  with  enthusiasm  into 
what  he  was  led  to  regard  an  honorable 
and  humane  undertaking. 

When  once  pledged  to  Burr,  under  the 
mastering  genius  of  his  wife,  the  exiled 
patriot  actively  engaged  in  enlisting  men, 
building  boats,  and  preparing  the  essen 
tials  of  his  expedition.  Many  of  the  most 
respectable  citizens  of  the  neighboring 
country,  being  influenced  by  the  flattering 
promises  held  out,  were  induced  to  con 
tribute  funds,  and  connect  themselves  with 
the  affair.  The  entertainments  on  the 
island  were,  with  the  progress  of  events, 
broken  up,  and  its  shores  echoed  only  to 
the  muffled  oar  of  the  conspirators,  as  they 
crossed  from  the  adjacent  banks,  or  to  the 
tramp  of  bold  adventurers,  as  they  congre 
gated  on  the  beach  to  resolve  and  discuss 
their  plans. 

Though  somewhat  anticipating  the 
thread  of  the  narrative,  it  may  here  be 
stated,  as  illustrating  the  character  of  a 
truly  brave  woman  and  devoted  wife,  that 
a  large  number  of  flat-boats  had  been  built 
on  the  Muskingum,  and  sent  over  to  the 
island,  and  everything  was  ripe  for  a 
movement,  when  the  plot  became  known 
to  the  public  authorities.  Blennerhassett 
was  very  speedily  deserted  by  his  follow 
ers ;  and  Buell,  who  commanded  the  gov 
ernment  militia,  went  over  with  a  small 
detachment  to  arrest  Burr's  great  accom 
plice.  He  had  hardly  set  his  foot  on  the 


206 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


island,  before  he  was  met  by  Mrs.  Blen- 
nerhassett,  whose  spirit  seemed  to  rise  with 
the  increasing  desperation  of  her  fortunes. 
She  had  seen  the  party  coining,  and, 
snatching  up  a  pair  of  her  husband's  pis 
tols,  she  ran  from  the  house  to  meet  them. 
Just  as  the  militia-major  stepped  out  of 
the  boat,  she  seized  him  by  the  shoulder, 
and,  thrusting  him  back,  presented  two 
formidable  pistols  full  in  his  face,  cocked 
and  primed,  saying  in  the  most  positive 
tone, — 

"  One  step  farther,  and  I  will  send  you 
into  eternity;  it  is  easier  for  me  to  do  than 
to  s«y  it!" 

Her  splendid  figure,  drawn  up  to  its 
full  height,  her  eye  fixed  with  a  strong 
and  determined  gaze,  her  hands  clenching 
firmly  the  weapons  which  she  held  at 
arm's  length,  —  these  told  the  militia- 
major,  in  language  not  to  be  mistaken,  the 
terms  on  which  he  might  advance.  It  is 
no  disparagement  of  his  military  or  manly 
qualities  to  say,  that  the  old  soldier  quailed 
before  the  courageous  woman  and  her  trag 
ical  determination,  and  was  forced  to  turn 
without  his  victim. 

The  frustration  of  Burr's  scheme  was 
largely  due  to  the  revelations  made  by 
General  Wilkinson,  in  whom  Burr  had 
confided  so  far  as  to  communicate  quite 
fully  the  character  and  mode  of  the 
proposed  expedition.  The  tenor  of  this 
communication  was,  that  he,  Burr,  had  ob 
tained  funds,  and  had  actually  commenced 
the  enterprise,  detachments  from  different 
points  and  under  different  pretenses  being 
ready  to  rendezvous  on  the  Ohio  by  the 
first  of  November,  .to  meet  on  the  Missis 
sippi, — Wilkinson  to  be  second  in  com 
mand  to  Burr  only,  and  to  dictate  the 
rank  and  promotion  of  the  officers.  Burr 
was  to  proceed  westward  with  his  daugh 
ter,  whose  husband  would  follow  in  Octo 
ber,  with  a  company  of  choice  spirits. 
Wilkinson  was  also  asked  to  send  an  intel 
ligent  and  confidential  friend  to  confer 
with  Burr, — bringing  a  list  of  all  persons 
known  to  the  general,  west  of  the  moun 
tains,  likely  to  prove  useful,  —  together 
with  four  or  five  commissions  of  Wilkin 


son's  officers,  to  be  borrowed  upon  some 
pretense,  and  duly  to  be  returned.  To 
this  was  added  the  assurance,  that  already 
had  orders  been  given  to  the  contractor, 
to  forward  six  months'  provisions  to  points 
Wilkinson  should  name  —  this  not  to  be 
used  until  the  last  moment,  and  then 
under  proper  injunctions.  Burr  stated  his 
plan  of  operations  to  be  as  follows :  To 
move  down  rapidly  from  the  Falls  on  the 
fifteenth  of  November,  with  the  first  five 
hundred  or  one  thousand  men  in  light 
boats,  to  be  at  Natchez  between  the  fifth 
and  fifteenth  of  December,  there  to  meet 
Wilkinson  and  determine  as  to  the  expe 
diency  of  seizing  on  or  passing  by  Baton 
Rouge ;  that  the  people  of  the  country  to 
which  the  movement  was  directed  were 
ready  to  extend  a  cordial  welcome,  their 
agents  then  with  Burr  declaring  that,  if 
he  would  protect  their  religion  and  not 
subject  them  to  a  foreign  power,  in  throe 
weeks  all  would  be  settled.  In  concluding 
his  letter  to  Wilkinson,  Burr  in  glowing 
rhapsody  said : 

"  The  gods  invite  to  glory  and  fortune  ! 
It  remains  to  be  seen  whether  we  deserve 
the  boon.  The  bearer  of  this  goes  express 
to  you  ;  he  will  hand  a  formal  letter  of 
introduction  to  you  from  Burr.  He  is  a 
man  of  inviolable  honor  and  perfect  dis 
cretion,  formed  to  execute  rather  than  to 
project,  capable  of  relating  facts  with  fidel 
ity  and  incapable  of  relating  them  other 
wise  ;  he  is  thoroughly  informed  of  the 
plans  and  intentions  of  Burr,  and  will  dis 
close  to  you  as  far  as  you  inquire,  and  no 
farther.  He  has  imbibed  a  reverence  for 
your  character,  and  may  be  embarrassed 
in  j'our  presence ;  put  him  at  ease  and  he 
will  satisfy  you." 

It  appeared  to  be  Burr's  plan,  to  make 
Blennerhassett's  island,  in  the  Ohio  river, 
the  place  of  rendezvous  ;  there  to  fit  out 
boats  furnished  with  armed  men,  and  send 
them  down  the  river. 

Burr  had  counted  too  confidently  upon 
Wilkinson's  becoming  an  accessory  and 
participant.  The  latter  instantly  resolved, 
after  reading  the  cipher-letter,  to  avail 
himself  of  the  reference  it  made  to  the 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


207 


bearer,  Mr.  Swartwout,  and,  in  the  course 
of  some  days,  drew  from  him  the  following 
disclosure  : — That  he  had  been  dispatched 
by  Colonel  Burr  from  Philadelphia ;  had 
passed  through  the  states  of  Ohio  and 
Kentucky,  and  proceeded  from  Louisville 
for  St.  Louis,  expecting  there  to  find  Wil 
kinson  ;  but  discovering  that  Wilkinson 
had  descended  the  river,  he  procured  a 
skiff,  hired  hands,  and  followed  the  gen 
eral  down  the  Mississippi  to  Fort  Adams, 
and  from  thence  set  out  for  Natchitoches, 
in  company  with  Captains  Spark  and 
Hooke,  under  the  pretense  of  a  disposition 
to  take  part  in  the  campaign  against  the 
Spaniards,  then  pending.  That  Colonel 
Burr,  with  the  support  of  a  powerful  asso 
ciation  extending  from  New  York  to  New 
Orleans,  was  levying  an  armed  body  of 
seven  thousand  men  from  the  western 
states  and  territories,  with  a  view  to  carry 
an  expedition  against  the  provinces  of 
Mexico,  and  that  five  hundred  men,  under 
the  command  of  Colonel  Swartwout  and 
a  Colonel  or  Major  Tyler,  were  to  de 
scend  the  Alleghany,  for  whose  accom 
modation  light-boats  had  been  built  and 
were  ready. 

In  reply  to  Wilkinson's  inquiry,  as  to 
what  course  was  to  be  pursued,  answer 
was  made  that  the  territory  would  be  revo 
lutionized,  where  the  people  were  ready  to 
join  them  ;  that  there  would  be  some  seiz 
ing,  probabl}',  at  New  Orleans;  that  they 
expected  to  be  ready  to  inarch  or  embark 
about  the  first  of  February,  intending  to 
land  at  Vera  Cruz,  and  to  march  from 
thence  to  Mexico.  General  Wilkinson  now 
remarked,  "  There  are  several  millions  of 
dollars  in  the  bank  of  this  place ; "  to 
which  reply  was  made,  "  We  knoiu  it  full 
icelV  On  the  general's  further  observing 
that  he  presumed  they  certainly  did  not 
mean  to  violate  private  property,  Burr's 
agent  said  that  they  meant  to  borrow,  and 
would  return  it ;  that  they  must  equip 
themselves  in  New  Orleans,  that  they 
expected  naval  protection  from  Great  Brit 
ain  ;  that  the  captains  and  officers  of  the 
American  navy  were  so  disgusted  with  the 
government,  that  they  were  ready  to  join  ; 


that  similar  disgusts  prevailed  throughout 
the  western  country,  where  the  people 
were  zealous  in  favor  of  the  enterprise, 
and  that  pilot-boat  built  schooners  had 
been  contracted  for  along  the  southern 
coast  for  their  service. 

Though  determined  to  deceive  him,  if 
possible,  General  Wilkinson  avers  —  not 
withstanding  the  charge  which  has  been 
brought  against  him  of  at  one  time  favor 
ing  and  subsequently  turning  his  back 
upon  Burr's  scheme — that  he  replied  that 
he  could  never  dishonor  his  commission ; 
that  he  also  duped  the  agent  by  expressing 
admiration  of  the  plan,  and  by  observing, 
that,  although  he  could  not  join  the  expe 
dition,  the  engagements  which  the  Span 
iards  had  prepared  for  him  at  the  front 
might  prevent  his  opposing  it.  Yet,  as 
soon  as  General  Wilkinson  had  fully 
deciphered  the  letter,  he  declared  his  inten 
tion  to  oppose  the  lawless  enterprise  with 
all  the  force  at  his  command,  and  immedi 
ately  informed  President  Jefferson.  With 
the  exception  of  the  attack  on  the  frigate 
Chesapeake,  Commodore  Barron,  by  the 
British  frigate  Leopard,  and  the  embargo 
and  non-intercourse  measures  against 
England,  few  occurrences  caused  greater 
anxiety  to  the  president,  during  his  eight 
years'  official  term,  than  this  of  Burr. 

Government  spies  had  for  some  time 
been  on  Burr's  track,  and,  in  view  of  his 
supposed  design  to  attempt  a  separation  of 
the  western  states  from  the  federal  union, 
the  governor  of  Ohio  was  authorized  by 
the  legislature  to  proceed  in  such  a  manner 
as  he  deemed  best  to  check  and  break  up 
the  movement.  According!}',  by  the 
middle  of  December,  ten  boats  with  stores 
were  arrested  on  the  Muskingum,  and  in  a 
short  time  after,  four  more  were  seized  by 
the  troops  at  Marietta.  Blennerhassett, 
Tyler,  and  about  forty  others,  left  the 
island  on  the  night  of  December  tenth, 
and  sailed  down  the  river,  barely  escaping 
arrest  by  the  military  authorities  of  Ohio. 
On  the  sixteenth,  this  party  united  with 
one  commanded  by  Davis  Floyd,  at  the 
Falls,  and,  ten  days  after,  the  whole  force 
joined  Burr  at  the  mouth  of  the  Cumber- 


208 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


BCRR  AND  1118   UELl'DED  FOLLOWERS. 

Land ;  on  the  twenty-ninth,  the  adventur 
ers  passed  Fort  Massac. 

In  the  meantime,  the  United  States 
government  hail  not  been  inactive.  Pres 
ident  Jefferson's  proclamation  cautioned 
all  citizens  against  joining  the  enterprise, 
and  orders  were  issued  to  the  United 
States  troops,  then  stationed  along  the 
Ohio  and  Mississippi,  to  capture  the  boats 
and  make  prisoners  all  on  board  of  them, 
including,  of  course,  the  chief  conspirator. 
Ample  precaution  had  likewise  been  taken 
by  General  Wilkinson,  for  the  protection 
and  defense  of  New  Orleans.  On  the 
fourth  of  January,  Burr  was  at  Fort  Pick 
ering,  Chickasaw  Bluffs  ;  and  soon  after  at 
Bayou  Pierre.  But  as  lie  approached 
New  Orleans,  lie  found  such  a  state  of 
things  in  respect  to  public  sentiment  and 
military  equipment,  as  to  completely  baffle 
his  plans.  He  accordingly  proceeded  to 
the  Tombigbee,  on  his  way  to  Florida, 


having  landed  with  a  single  companion  on 
the  banks  of  the  Mississippi,  in  the  middle 
of  January. 

Close  pursuit  was  made  of  Burr  by 
Lieutenant  Edmund  P.  Gaines,  at  the 
head  of  a  file  of  mounted  soldiers,  and  in  a 
short  time  they  encountered  the  object  of 
their  search,  with  his  traveling  companion. 
Gaines  rode  forward,  and  accosting  one  of 
the  strangers,  whom  he  suspected  to  bo 
the  leader-in-chief,  remarked — 

"I  presume,  sir,  that  I  have  the  honor 
of  addressing  Colonel  Burr." 

"I  am  a  traveler,"  answered  Burr,  "and 
in  a  strange  land,  and  do  not  recognize 
your  right  to  ask  such  a  question." 

"  /  arrest  you"  responded  Gaines,  "  at 
the,  instance  of  the  Unit  ad  States." 

"  By  what  authority  do  you  arrest  me, 
a  stranger,  on  the  highway,  on  my  own 
private  business  ?  " 

"  I  am  an  officer  of  the  United  States 
army,  and  hold  in  my  hand  the  proclama 
tion  of  the  president,  as  well  as  that  of  the 
governor  of  the  Mississippi  territory, 
directing  your  arrest." 

"  But  you  arc  a  young  man,  and  perhaps 
not  aware  of  the  responsibility  of  thus 
arresting  a  traveler." 

"I  am  perfectly  aware  of  my  duties,  in 
the  premises,  and  shall  endeavor  to  per 
form  them." 

Burr  now  broke  out  in  a  stream  of  vehe 
ment  denunciation  of  the  proclamations, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


209 


and  warning  Gaines  that,  in  carrying  out 
their  illegal  requisitions,  he  would  be  in 
curring  the  most  serious  liabilities.  His 
manner  was  firm,  his  tone  imperious,  his 
words  keen  and  forcible ;  but  the  resolute 
young  officer  told  him  his  mind  was  made 
up, — the  prisoner  must  accompany  him  to 
his  quarters,  where  he  would  be  treated 
with  all  the  respect  due  the  ex-vice- 
president  of  the  United  States,  so  long  as 
lie  made  no  attempt  to  escape.  He  was 
then  conducted  to  Fort  Stoddart,  and 
thence  was  conveyed  on  horseback,  in 
charge  of  Captain  Perkins,  to  Richmond, 
Virginia,  to  be  tried  by  the  United  States 
on  a  charge  of  high  treason,  before  Chief- 
Justice  Marshall,  of  the  supreme  federal 
court. 

Strange  and.  rapid  were  Burr's  vicissi 
tudes.  From  being  vice-president  of  the 
republic,  the  idol  of  a  powerful  and  domi 
nant  party,  he  had  become  the  slayer  of 
America's  greatest  statesman,  and  then  a 
bold  and  disowned  adventurer.  Defeated 
and  pursued,  he  was  indeed  a  hopeless 
fugitive.  When  he  fled  from  the  authori 
ties  in  the  Mississippi  territory,  he  dis 
guised  himself  in  a  boatman's  dress;  his 
pantaloons  were  of  coarse,  copperas-dyed 
cloth,  with  a  roundabout  of  inferior  drab; 
his  hat,  a  napping,  wide-brim  beaver,  had, 
in  times  long  past,  been  white,  but  now 
gave  evidence  of  having  encountered  much 
rough  weather.  He  finally  found  himself 
a  prisoner,  on  his  way  to  be  arraigned  be 
fore  a  jury  of  his  country,  for  high  crimes 
and  misdemeanors.  Yet  his  fascinating 
power  over  men's  minds  was  not  yet 
extinguished.  On  being  placed  under 
guard,  to  be  conveyed  to  Richmond,  it  was 
thought  necessary  by  the  directing  officer, 
to  take  every  man  composing  the  squad 
aside,  and  obtain  the  most  solemn  pledges 
that,  upon  the  whole  route,  they  would 
hold  no  interviews  with  Burr,  nor  suffer 
him  to  escape  alive.  His  power  of  fasci 
nating  and  making  strong  impressions 
upon  the  human  mind,  and  attaching  men 
to  him  by  association,  could  allow  of  no 
familiarity. 

A  characteristic  incident  occurred  on 
14 


the  route  to  Richmond.  On  reaching  the 
confines  of  South  Carolina,  Captain  Per 
kins  watched  Burr  more  closely  than  ever ; 
for,  in  this  state  lived  the  son-in-law  of 
Burr,  Colonel  Allston,  a  gentleman  of 
talents,  wealth  and  influence,  and  after 
wards  governor  of  the  state.  Upon  enter 
ing  the  frontiers  of  Georgia,  Perkins 
endeavored  to  convey  his  prisoner  in 
by-roads,  to  avoid  the  towns,  lest  he  should 
be  rescued.  The  plan  was  attended  with 
difficult}' ;  they  were  often  lost — the  march 
impeded  —  the  highway  again  resumed. 
Before  entering  the  town  of  Chester,  in 
South  Carolina,  the  party  halted.  Two 
men  were  placed  before  Burr,  two  on 
either  side,  and  two  behind,  and,  in  this 
manner,  they  passed  near  a,  tavern  on  the 
street,  where  many  persons  were  standing, 
and  music  and  dancing  were  heard  in  the 
house.  Burr  conceived  it  a  favorable 
opportunity  for  escape,  and,  suddenly  dis 
mounting,  exclaimed — 

"  I  am  Aaron  Burr,  under  military 
arrest,  and  claim  protection  of  the  civil 
authorities  ! " 

Perkins  leaped  from  his  horse,  with 
several  of  his  men,  and  ordered  him 
instantly  to  re-mount. 

"  /  will  not  !  "  replied  Burr. 

Not  wishing  to  shoot  him,  Perkins 
threw  down  his  pistols,  and,  being  a  man 
of  prodigious  strength,  and  the  prisoner 
rather  small,  seized  him  around  the  waist 
and  placed  him  in  his  saddle,  as  though  he 
was  a  child.  One  of  the  guards  no\r 
caught  the  reins  of  the  bridle,  slipped 
them  over  the  horse's  head,  and  led  him 
rapidly  on.  The  astonished  citizens  had 
seen  a  party  enter  their  village  with  a 
prisoner;  had  heard  him  appeal  to  them 
for  protection  ;  had  witnessed  the  feat  of 
Perkins;  and  the  party  vanished,  before 
they  had  time  to  recover  from  their  confu 
sion —  for,  when  Burr  dismounted,  the 
guards  cocked  their  pistols,  and  the  people 
ran  within  the  piazza  to  escape  from 
danger.  Far  off  in  the  outskirts  of  the 
village,  the  party  again  halted.  Burr 
was  intensely  agitated  ;  the  hitherto  iron- 
hearted  man  was  in  tears!  It  was  the 


01*11  1'IIIST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


first  time  any  one  had  ever  seen  Aaron 
Burr  unmanned. 

Oil  trial,  at  last,  the  whole  United 
States  waited  the  result  with  profoundest 
interest.  It  was  one  of  the  most  memora 
ble  ,tate  occasions,  in  the  history  of  human 
governments.  Upon  the  bench  sat  the 
venerated  Marshall,  calm,  dignified, 
learned.  For  the  prosecution,  there  aj>- 
peared  District  Attorney  Hay  and  the 
renowned  William  Wirt.  For  the  defend 
ant,  Luther  Martin,  Edmund  Randolph, 
John  Wickham,  Benjamin  Botts,  and, 
rivaling  all  the  rest,  Burr  himself.  On 
the  jury  were  such  men  as  John  Randolph 
and  Littleton  W.  Tazewell.  Among  the 
spectators  were  Commodore  Truxton,  Gen 
erals  Katon  and  Jackson,  Washington 
Irving,  Winfield  Scott,  William  B.  Giles, 
John  Taylor.  Burr  was  of  course  the  cen 
tral  figure  in  this  master  scene.  After  a 
trial  lasting  three  or  four  weeks  in  mid 
summer,  during  which  the  legal  exertions 
and  forensic  talent  and  power  displayed  on 
both  sides  were  indeed  prodigious,  the 
jury  returned  a  verdict,  ''that  Aaron  Burr 
is  not  proved  to  be  guilty,  under  the 
indictment,  by  any  evidence  submitted  to 
us;  we,  therefore,  find  him  not  guilty." 
The  prosecution  failed  and  broke  down  in 
its  legal  proofs,  and  consequently  the 
indictments  against  the  other  conspirator- 
were  never  pursued. 

Blennerhassett  found  himself  stripped 
of  his  possessions,  because  of  what  he  had 
embarked  in  this  calamitous  expedition. 
He  went  to  England,  in  quest  of  an  ap 
pointment  to  office,  and  to  Ireland,  to  look- 
after  some  reversionary  claims,  but  unsuc 
cessfully  in  both  cases,  and,  bankrupt  and 
broken-hearted,  he  removed  to  the  isle  of 
Guernsey,  and  there  died  in  1831.  Mrs. 
Blennerhassett  died,  a  few  years  after,  in 
New  York,  in  the  most  abject  poverty, 
and  was  buried  by  some  Irish  females. 

Burr,  without  friends  or  fortune,  became 
an  exile  in  Europe,  where  he  lived  in  ex 
treme  penury,  and  everywhere  shunned  as 
a  felon  and  outlaw.  He  was  peremptorily 
ordered  by  the  government  of  England  to 
quit  that  realm,  being  regarded  as  a  spy, 


and.  on  going  to  France,  was  there  kept 
under  the  closest  police  surveillance,  lie- 
turning  after  some  years  of  this  kind  of 
life,  to  his  native  land,  he  resumed  the 
profession  of  the  law.  but  the  ban  of  soci 
ety  rested  upon  him.  and  he  was,  as  he 
himself  expressed  it.  severed  from  the  rest 
of  mankind. 

Yet  there  was  one  in  the  wide  world 
who  never  ceased  to  pour  upon  Aaron 
Burr  the  richest  treasures  of  woman'.- 
adoring  love.  This  was  his  daughter 
Theodosia,  the  beautiful  and  accomplished 
wife  of  Governor  Allston,  of  South  Caro 
lina.  As  has  been  truly  said,  by  one  of  the 
many  eulogists  of  this  marvelous  woman, 
her  love  for  her  father  partook  of  the  purity 
of  a  better  world, — akin,  indeed,  to  the  affec 
tion  which  a  celestial  spirit  might  be  sup 
posed  to  entertain  for  a  parent  cast  down 
from  heaven,  for  sharing  in  the  sin  of  the 
'Son  of  the  Morning.'  Thus  it  was,  that, 
when  in  the  midst  of  his  deepest  obloquy, 
and  when  the  whole  world,  as  it  were, 
looked  upon  him,  abhorrently,  as  a  de 
praved  monster,  the  loving  and  beloved 
Theodosia  could  write: 


"I  witness  your  extraordinary  fortitude 
with  new  wonder  at  every  new  misfortune. 
Often,  after  reflecting  upon  this  subject, 
you  appear  to  me  so  superior,  so  elevated 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


211 


above  all  other  men;  I  contemplate  you 
with  such  a  strange  mixture  of  humility, 
admiration,  reverence,  love  and  pride,  that 
very  little  superstition  would  be  necessary  to 
make  me  worship  you  as  a  superior  being; 
such  enthusiasm  does  your  character  excite 
in  me.  When  I  afterward  revert  to  my 
self,  how  insignificant  do  my  best  qualities 
appear.  My  vanity  would  be  greater,  if  I 
had  not  been  placed  so  near  you ;  and  yet 
my  pride  is  our  relationship.  I  had  rather 
not  live  than  not  be  the  daughter  of  such  a 
man.'"' 

Never  had  the  worthiest  and  most  vir 
tuous  of  fathers  so  touching  a  tribute  of 
love  and  reverence  from  a  child,  as  this 
from  the  beautiful  and  gifted  Theodosia, 
to  a  parent  whose  very  name  was  regarded 
by  men  as  the  synonym  of  dishonor  and 
pollution.  His  love  for  her,  too,  was  con 
stant  and  unbounded, — a  mutual,  fervent, 
enthusiastic  love,  between  the  two,  that 
almost  passes  belief,  and  which  no  descrip 
tion  could  adequately  characterize.  Yet 
it  was  the  destiny  of  this  man  to  have 
torn  and  swept  from  him  the  last  and  only 
tie  that  kept  him  in  sympathy  with  his 
kind.  Returning  from  his  exile  in  Europe, 
to  the  land  where  he  was  still  regarded  as 


little  else  than  a  fiend  in  human  shape,  his 
heart  was  buoyed  with  the  expectation  of 
soon  clasping  to  his  arms  her  in  whom  his 
earthly  all-in-all  centered.  Alas !  he  was 
yet  to  drain  the  cup  of  its  nether  dregs. 
Hastening  to  meet  her  father  on  his  ar 
rival  at  New  York,  Theodosia  took  passage 
from  Charleston,  on  the  30th  of  December, 
in  1812,  in  the  small  pilot  schooner  Patriot, 
just  from  a  privateering  cruise.  But, 
though  a  fine  sailer,  with  the  best  of  offi 
cers,  the  vessel  was  never  seen,  nor  heard 
from,  after  leaving  port.  Whether  the 
vessel  took  fire  and  was  thus  destroyed 
with  all  on  board,  or  foundered  in  the  gale 
which  occurred  soon  after  she  left  Charles 
ton,  or  was  taken  by  the  pirates  then 
infesting  the  high  seas,  is  unknown  to  this 
day.  It  was  a  blow  which  brought  inde 
scribable  dismay  and  agony  to  Burr. 
Utterly  bereft  and  alone,  shunned  as  a 
murderer,  and  despised  as  a  plotter  against 
his  country,  his  wretched  existence  was 
prolonged  to  past  four-score  years,  when 
he  went  down  in  loneliness  to  the  grave, 
"unwept,  unhonored,  and  unsung."  Of 
his  accomplished  and  affectionate  daughter, 
all  tongues  and  pens  have  unitedly  spoken 
as  "  Theodosia  the  beloved" 


XXI. 

FULTON'S    TRIUMPHANT    APPLICATION    OF    STEAM    TO 

NAVIGATION.— 1807. 


First  Steam-boat  Voyage  on  American  Waters  Under  His  Direction. — Astonishment  Produced  by  the 
Exhibition. — Great  Era  in  National  Development. — The  World  at  Large  Indebted  to  American 
Ingenuity  and  Enterprise  for  this  Mighty  Revolutionary  Agent  in  Human  Progress  and  Power. — 
The  Whole  Scale  of  Civilization  Enlarged. — Fulton's  Early  Mechanisms. — Ilia  Inventive  Projects 
Abroad. —  Steam  Propulsion  the  End  Sought. —  Various  Experiments  and  Trials. —  Livingston's 
Valued  Co-operation. — Studying  the  Principle  Involved. — Its  Discovery  at  Last. — Legislative  En 
couragement  Asked — Public  Ridicule  of  the  Scheme. — Construction  of  a  Steamboat. — The  "  Queer- 
Looking  Craft." — Incidents  at  the  launch. —  Undaunted  Confidence  of  Fulton. —  Sailing  of  the 
"  New-Fangled  Craft." — Demonstrations  Along  the  Route. — Complete  Success  of  the  Trip. — First 
Passage-Money. — That  Bottle  of  Wine. — Opposition  Lines,  and  Racing. — First  Steam-boat  at  the 
West  — Amazing  Subsequent  Increase. — Fulton's  Checkered  Fortunes. 


"It  It  to  the  und  mnted  perneveranc*  and  exertion*  of  the  American  FULTON  that  is  du«  the  everlasting  honor  of  having  produced  thi» 
reTolution,  but  h  in  nival  architecture  and  navigation." — JUKT  Ki.r<>i:r  or  TIIK  EXHIBITION  OF  ALL  NATIONS,  LONIM)*,  ]•<',!. 


[TEAM,  in  its  application  to  the  purposes  of  navigation, 
was  first  successfully  employed  by  Robert  Fulton,  a  na 
tive  jt  Little  Britain,  Pennsylvania.  His  peculiar  genius 
manifested  itself  at  an  early  age,  in  an  irrepressible  taste 
fc.  producing  drawings  and  various  mechanisms.  At  lin 
age  of  twenty-one  he  was  intimate  with  Franklin.  He 
had  previously  painted  portraits  and  landscapes  in  Phila 
delphia,  and  derived  considerable  profit  from  the  occupa 
tion.  He  subsequently  sailed  for  England,  with  the  view 
of  seeking  Mr.  West's  aid  in  the  prosecution  of  his  art. 
That  great  painter  took  him  into  his  family,  at  once.  In 
1793,  Mr.  Fulton  was  actively  engaged  in  a  project  to  im 
prove  inland  navigation.  Even  at  that  time  he  had  con 
ceived  the  idea  of  propelling  vessels  bv  steam.  In  1804  he  had  acquired  much 
valuable  information  upon  the  subject,  and  written  it  down,  as  well  as  much  concern 
ing  his  own  life,  and  sent  many  manuscripts  from  Paris  to  this  country,  but  the 
vessel  was  wrecked  and  most  of  the  papers  destroyed.  About  this  period,  the  sul>- 
ject  of  canals  seems  to  have  been  the  principal  object  of  his  attention,  although  not 
exclusively.  In  1806,  Mr.  Fulton  left  Europe  for  New  York,  and  on  his  arrival 
in  this  country,  he  immediately  commenced  his  arduous  exertions  in  the  canse  of 
practical  science.  The  fertility  of  his  mind  in  this  direction  may  be  understood, 
when  it  is  stated  that,  in  1794,  he  had  been  engaged  by  the  Duke  of  Bridgewater  in 


FIRST   HTKAM-HOAT  OS  THE 
HUDSON. 


GKEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


213 


canal  projects,  had  adopted  and  patented 
the  system  of  inclined  planes  as  a  substi 
tute  for  locks,  and  had  written  a  treatise 
on  canals.  He  also  invented  a  mill  for 
sawing  marble,  patented  several  methods 
of  spinning  flax  and  making  ropes,  and 
constructed  a  torpedo  to  be  used  in  war, 
for  the  destruction  of  an  enemy's  vessels. 

At  what  time  Mr.  Fulton's  mind  was 
first  directed  to  steam  navigation,  is  not 
definitely  known;  but  even  in  1793,  he 
had  matured  a  plan  in  which  he  reposed 
great  confidence.  No  one,  previously  to 
Mr.  Fulton,  had  constructed  a  steam-boat 


in  any  other  way,  or  with  any  other  result, 
than  as  an  unsuccessful  experiment;  and 
although  many  have  disputed  his  right  to 
the  honor  of  the  discovery,  none  have  done 
so  with  any  semblance  of  justice.  Miller's 
experiments,  which  simply  proved  the 
practicability  of  the  principle  of  propelling 
vessels  by  steam,  were  made  in  1787,  in 
Scotland;  but  Fulton's  boat,  which  began 
to  navigate  the  Hudson  in  1807,  was  cer 
tainly  the  first  practical  demonstration  of 
this  application  of  steam,  being  five  years 
prior  to  the  success  of  Henry  Bell  on  the 
Clyde,  and  nearly  ten  years  preceding  the 
first  attempts  on  the  Thames  river,  under 


Brunei's  direction.  The  incompleteness  of 
Fitch's  plan  is  matter  of  history,  though 
his  inventive  ingenuity  was  very  great. 

Among  those  of  Fulton's  own  country 
men  who  had  previously  made  unsuccessful 
attempts  to  render  the  force  of  steam  sub 
servient  to  practical  and  useful  purposes, 
was  Chancellor  Livingston,  of  New  York. 
As  early  as  1798,  he  believed  that  he  had 
accomplished  his  object,  and  represented 
to  the  legislature  of  the  state  of  New  York, 
that  he  possessed  a  mode  of  applying  the 
steam  engine  so  as  to  propel  a  boat  on 
new  and  advantageous  principles;  but  he 
was  deterred  from  carrying  it  into  effect, 
by  the  uncertainty  and  hazard  of  a  very 
expensive  experiment,  unless  he  could  be 
assured  of  an  exclusive  advantage  from  it, 
should  it  be  found  successful. 

The  legislature  in  March,  1798,  passed 
an  act  vesting  Mr.  Livingston  with  the 
exclusive  right  and  privilege  of  navigating 
all  kinds  of  boats  which  might  be  propelled 
by  the  force  of  fire  or  steam,  on  all  the 
waters  within  the  territory  or  jurisdiction 
of  the  state  of  New  York,  for  a  term  of 
twenty  years  from  the  passing  of  the  act, 
— upon  condition  that  he  should  within  a 
twelvemonth  build  such  a  boat,  the  mean 
of  whose  progress  should  not  be  less  than 
four  miles  an  hour. 

The  bill  was  introduced  into  the  house 
of  assembly  by  Dr.  Mitchell,  upon  which 
occasion  the  wags  and  the  lawyers  united 
their  powers  in  opposition  to  the  bill  in 
such  a  manner  that  the  good  doctor  had 
to  encounter  all  their  jokes,  and  parry  all 
their  blows. 

According  to  Mr.  Livingston's  own 
account  of  these  most  interesting  circum 
stances,  it  appears  that,  when  residing  as 
minister  plenipotentiary  of  the  United 
States  in  France,  he  there  met  with  Mr. 
Fulton,  and  they  formed  that  friendship 
and  connection  with  each  other,  to  which 
a  similarity  of  pursuits  naturally  gives 
birth.  He  communicated  to  Mr.  Fulton 
his  views  of  the  importance  of  steam-boats 
to  their  common  country  ;  informed  him  of 
what  had  been  attempted  in  America,  and 
of  his  resolution  to  resume  the  pursuit  on 


214 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


his  return ;  and  advised  him  to  turn  his  | 
attention  to  the  subject.  It  was  agreed 
between  them  to  embark  in  the  enterprise, 
and  immediately  to  make  such  experi 
ments  as  would  enable  them  to  determine 
how  far,  in  spite  of  former  failures,  the 
object  was  attainable.  The  principal 
direction  of  these  experiments  was  left  to 
Mr.  Fulton. 

On  the  arrival  at  New  York  of  Mr. 
Fulton,  which  was  not  till  1806,  they  im 
mediately  engaged  in  building  a  boat  of — 
as  was  then  thought — very  considerable 
dimensions,  for  navigating  the  Hudson. 
This  boat,  named  the  Clermont,  was  of 
one  hundred  and  sixty  tons  burden,  one 
hundred  and  thirty  feet  long,  eighteen 
feet  wide,  and  seven  feet  deep.  The 
diameter  of  the  paddle-wheels  was  fifteen 
feet,  the  boards  four  feet  long  and  dipping 
two  feet  in  the  water.  She  was  a  queer- 
looking  craft,  and,  while  on  the  stocks, 
excited  much  attention  and  no  small 
amount  of  ridicule.  When  she  was 
launched,  and  the  steam  engine  placed  in 
her,  that  also  was  looked  upon  as  being  of 
a  piece  with  the  boat  built  to  float  it.  A 
few  had  seen  one  at  work  raising  the  Man 
hattan  water  into  the  reservoir  back  of 
the  almshouse;  but,  to  the  people  at  large, 
the  whole  thing  was  a  hidden  mystery. 
Curiosity  was  greatly  excited.  Nor  will 
the  reader  be  at  all  surprised  at  the  state 
ment  made  by  an  eye-witness  and  narrator 
of  these  events,  .that,  when  it  was  an 
nounced  in  the  New  York  papers  that  the 
boat  would  start  from  Cortlandt  street  at 
six  and  a  half  o'clock  on  Friday  morning, 
the  fourth  of  August,  and  take  passengers 
to  Albany,  there  was  a  broad  smile  on 
every  face,  as  the  inquiry  was  made,  if 
any  one  would  be  fool  enough  to  go  ? 
One  friend  was  heard  to  accost  another  in 
the  street  with — 

"John,  will  thee  risk  thy  life  in  such  a 
concern  ?  I  tell  thee  she  is  the  most  fear- 
fid  wild  fowl  living,  and  thy  father  ought 
to  restrain  thee  !  " 

\\  hen  Friday  morning  came,  the 
wharves,  piers,  house-tops,  and  every 
'  coifjne  de  vantuye'  from  which  a  sight 


could  be  obtained,  was  filled  with  specta 
tors.  There  were  twelve  berths,  and 
every  one  was  taken  through  to  Albany. 
The  fare  was  seven  dollars.  All  the 
machinery  was  uncovered  and  exposed  to 
view.  The  periphery  of  the  balance- 
wheels,  of  cast  iron,  some  four  or  more 
inches  square,  ran  just  clear  of  the  water. 
There  were  no  outside  guards,  the  balance- 
wheels  being  supported  by  their  respective 
shafts,  which  projected  over  the  sides  of 
the  boat.  The  forward  part  was  covered 
by  a  deck,  which  afforded  shelter  to  the 
hands.  The  after-part  was  fitted  up.  in  a 
rough  manner,  for  passengers.  The  en 
trance  into  the  cabin  was  from  the  stern, 
in  front  of  the  steersman,  who  worked  a 
tiller,  as  in  an  ordinary  sloop.  Black 
smoke  issued  from  the  chimney;  steam 
issued  from  every  ill-fitted  valve  and  crev 
ice  of  the  engine.  Fulton  himself  was 
there.  His  remarkably  clear  and  sharp 
voice  was  heard  above  the  hum  of  the  mul 
titude  and  the  noise  of  the  engine;  his 
step  was  confident  and  decided  ;  he  heeded 
not  the  fearfulness,  doubts,  or  sarcasm  of 
those  by  whom  he  was  surrounded.  The 
whole  scene  combined  had  in  it  an  individ 
uality,  as  well  as  an  interest,  which  comes 
but  once  and  is  remembered  forever. 

Everything  being  ready,  the  engine  was 
set  in  motion,  and  the  boat  moved  steadily 
but  slowly  from  the  wharf  :  as  she  turned 
up  the  river,  and  was  fairly  under  way, 
there  arose  such  a  huzza  as  ten  thousand 
throats  never  gave  before.  The  passen 
gers  returned  the  cheer,  but  Fulton  stood 
upon  the  deck,  his  eyes  flashing  with  an  un 
usual  brilliancy  as  he  surveyed  the  crowd. 
He  felt  that  the  magic  wand  of  success 
was  waving  over  him,  and  he  was  silent. 

As  the  boat  sailed  or  steamed  by  West 
Point,  the  whole  garrison  was  out,  and 
cheered  most  lustily.  At  Newburg,  it 
seemed  as  if  all  Orange  county  was  col 
lected  there ;  the  whole  side-hill  city 
seemed  animated  with  life.  Every  sail 
boat  and  water-craft  was  out.  The  ferry 
boat  from  Fishkill  was  filled  with  ladies, 
but  Fulton  was  engaged  in  seeing  a  pas 
senger  landed,  and  did  not  observe  the 


GKEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


215 


bout  until  she   bore  up  nearly  alongside ;   !       In  a  letter  to  his  friend  and  patron,  Mr. 
the  ilapping  of  a  sail  arrested  his  atten-  !  Barlow,  Fulton  says  of  this  Clermont  trial 


tion,  and,  as  he  turned,  the  waving  of  so 
many  handkerchiefs,  and  the  smiles  of  so 


trip:    "My  steam-boat  voyage  to  Albanv 
and   back   has   turned    out    rather   more 


many  bright  and  happy  faces,  struck  him 
with  surprise,  and,  raising  his  hat,  he  ex 
claimed,  "That  is  the  finest  sight  we  have 
.seen  yet." 


favorable  than  I  had  calculated.  The  dis 
tance  to  Albany  is  one  hundred  and  fifty 
miles.  I  ran  up  in  thirty-two  hours  and 
down  in  thirty.  The  latter  is  just  five 


216 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1S7G. 


miles  an  hour.  I  had  a  light  breeze 
against  me  the  whole  way,  going  and  coin 
ing,  so  that  no  use  was  made  of  my  sails, 
and  this  voyage  has  been  performed  whol 
ly  by  the  power  of  the  steam  engine.  I 
overtook  many  sloops  and  schooners  beat 
ing  to  the  windward,  and  passed  them  as 
if  they  had  been  at  anchor."  Such  was 
the  modest  description  of  this  greatest  of 
modern  inventions. 

Of  peculiar  interest  and  entertainment 
is  the  following  narrative  connected  with 
this  historic  voyage,  from  the  graphic  pen 
of  one  who  was  a  personal  actor  in  the 
scene  described: — 

I  chanced  to  be  at  Albany  on  business 
when  Fulton  arrived  there  in  his  unheard- 
of  craft,  which  everybody  felt  so  much 
anxiety  to  see.  Being  ready  to  leave,  and 
hearing  that  this  craft  was  going  to 
return  to  New  York,  I  repaired  on  board 
and  inquired  for  Mr.  Fulton.  I  was 
referred  to  the  cabin,  and  there  found  a 
plain,  gentlemanly  man,  wholly  alone,  and 
engaged  in  writing. 

"  Mr.  Fulton,  I  presume." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Do  you  return  to  New  York,  with  this 
boat  ?  " 

"  We  shall  try  to  get  back,  sir." 

"  Can  I  have  a  passage  down  ?  " 

"You  can  take  your  chance  with  us, 
sir." 

I  inquired  the  amount  to  be  paid,  and, 
after  a  moment's  hesitation,  a  sum,  I 
think  six  dollars,  was  named.  The  amount, 
in  coin,  I  laid  in  his  open  hand,  and,  with 
his  eye  fixed  upon  it,  he  remained  so  long 
motionless,  that  I  supposed  it  might  be  a 
miscount,  and  said  to  him,  "Is  that  right, 
sir?"  This  question  roused  him  as  from 
a  kind  of  reverie,  and,  as  he  looked  up,  the 
big  tear  was  brimming  in  his  eye,  and  his 
voice  faltered  as  he  said — 

"  Excuse  me,  sir ;  but  memory  was 
busy  as  I  contemplated  this,  the  first 
pecuniary  reward  I  have  ever  received  for 
all  my  exertions  in  adapting  steam  to 
navigation.  I  should  gladly  commemorate 
the  occasion  over  a  bottle  of  wine  with 
you,  but  really  I  am  too  poor  even  for 


that,  just  now;  yet  I  trust  we  may  meet 
again,  when  this  will  not  be  the  case." 

Some  four  years  alter  this  (continues 
the  writer  of  this  agreeable  reminiscence), 
when  the  Clermont  had  been  greatly  im 
proved  and  her  name  changed  to  the  North 
River,  and  when  two  other  boats,  viz.,  tin- 
Car  of  Neptune  and  the  Paragon  had  been 
built,  making  Mr.  Fulton's  fleet  consist  of 
three  boats  regularly  plying  between  New 
York  and  Albany,  I  took  passage  upon  one 
of  these  for  the  latter  city.  The  cabin  in 
that  day  was  below;  and,  as  I  walked  its. 
length  to  and  fro,  I  saw  I  was  very  closelv 
observed  by  one  I  supposed  a  stranger. 
Soon,  however,  I  recalled  the  features  of 
Mr.  Fulton ;  but,  without  disclosing  this, 
I  continued  my  walk.  At  length,  in  pass 
ing  his  seat,  our  eyes  met,  when  he  sprang 
to  his  feet,  and,  eagerly  seizing  my  hand, 
exclaimed — 

"I  knew  it  must  be  you,  for  your  feat 
ures  have  never  escaped  me  ;  and,  although 
I  am  still  far  from  rich,  yet  I  may  venture 
that  bottle  now  !  " 

It  was  ordered;  and  during  its  discus 
sion  Mr.  Fulton  ran  rapidly,  but  vividly, 
over  his  experiences  of  the  world's  cold 
ness  and  sneers,  and  of  the  hopes,  fears, 
disappointments,  and  difficulties,  that  were 
scattered  through  his  whole  career  of  dis 
covery,  up  to  the  very  point  of  his  final,, 
crowning  triumph,  at  which  he  so  fully  felt 
he  had  arrived  at  last.  And  in  reviewing; 
all  these  matters,  he  said — 

"  I  have  again  and  again  recalled  the 
occasion,  and  the  incident,  of  our  first 
interview  at  Albam7;  and  never  have  I 
done  so  without  renewing  in  my  mind  the 
vivid  emotion  it  originally  caused.  That 
seemed,  and  does  still  seem,  to  me,  the 
turning  point  in  my  destiny — the  dividing 
line  between  light  and  darkness,  in  my 
career  upon  earth ;  for  it  was  the  first 
actual  recognition  of  my  usefulness  to  my 
fellow-men." 

Even  at  this  early  period  in  the  employ 
ment  of  so  dangerous  and  slightly  under 
stood  a  motive  power  as  steam,  the  rivalry 
and  diversion  of  racing  was  indulged  in. 
It  was  in  the  month  of  September,  1809, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


217 


that  the  exciting  and  criminal  scene  of  a 
steam-boat  race  was  first  enacted.  A  com 
pany  from  Albany  had  been  formed  for 
the  purpose  of  competing  with  Fulton. 
The  first  vessel  of  this  opposition  line  was 
advertised  to  leave  Albany  at  the  same 
time  as  Fulton's.  Parties  ran  high  in  the 
hotels  of  Albany.  The  partisans  of  Fulton 
were  enrolled  under  Professor  Kemp,  of 
Columbia  College  ;  those  of  the  opposition 
under  Jacob  Stout.  The  victory  was  long 
in  suspense  ;  and  it  was  not  until  after  the 
thirtieth  hour  of  a  hard  struggle  that  the 
result  was  proclaimed  by  Dr.  Kemp,  on 
the  taffrail  of  Fulton's  vessel,  and  holding 
out,  in  derision,  a  coil  of  rope  to  Captain 
Stout,  for  the  purpose,  as  he  remarked  in 
so  doing,  of  "towing  him  into  port." 
When  the  age,  high  standing,  and  sedate 
character  of  these  two  gentlemen  are  con 
sidered,  it  is  not  surprising  that,  in  course 
of  time,  women  at  the  West  learned  to 
devote  their  bacon  to  feeding  the  furnace 
fires  of  rival  steam-boats. 

The  complete  success  attending  steam 
navigation  on  the  Hudson  and  the  neigh 
boring  waters,  previous  to  the  year  1809, 
turned  the  attention  of  the  principal  pro 
jectors  to  the  idea  of  its  application  on  the 
western  waters ;  and  in  the  month  of 
April  of  that  year,  Mr.  Roosevelt,  of  New 
York,  pursuant  to  an  agreement  with 
Chancellor  Livingston  and  Mr.  Fulton, 
visited  those  rivers,  with  the  purpose  of 
forming  an  opinion  whether  they  admitted 
of  steam  navigation  or  not.  Mr.  Roosevelt 
surveyed  the  rivers  from  Pittsburg  to 
New  Orleans,  and,  as  his  report  was  favor 
able,  it  was  decided  to  build  a  boat  at  the 
former  place.  This  was  done  under  his 
direction,  and  in  the  year  1811  the  first 
boat  was  launched  on  the  waters  of  the 
Ohio.  It  was  called  the  New  Orleans. 

Late  at  night,  on  the  fourth  day  after 
quitting  Pittsburg,  they  arrived  in  safety 
at  Louisville,  having  been  seventy  hours 
descending  a  distance  of  somewhat  more 
than  seven  hundred  miles.  The  novel 
appearance  of  the  vessel,  and  the  fearful 
rapidity — as  it  was  then  regarded — with 
which  it  made  its  passage,  excited  a  mix 


ture  of  terror  and  surprise  among  many  of 
the  settlers  on  the  banks,  whom  the  rumor 
of  such  an  invention  had  never  reached. 

Mr.  Livingston's  former  associate  in  his 
experiments  with  applying  steam  to  this 
purpose  was  Mr.  John  Stevens,  of  New 
Jersej",  who  persevered  independently  of 
Fulton  and  his  patron,  in  various  attempts 
to  construct  steam-boats.  In  this  enter 
prise  he  was  aided  by  his  son,  and  his 
prospects  of  success  had  become  so  flatter 
ing,  that  he  refused  to  renew  his  partner 
ship  with  Livingston,  and  resolved  to  trust 
to  his  own  exertions.  Fulton's  boat,  how 
ever,  was  first  ready,  and  thus  secured  the 
grant  of  the  exclusive  privilege  of  the  state 
of  New  York.  The  Stevenses  were  but  a 
few  days  later  in  moving  a  boat  with  the 
required  velocity.  Being  shut  out  of  the 
waters  of  the  state  of  New  York,  by  the 
priority  of  Livingston  and  Fulton,  Stevens 
conceived  the  bold  design  of  conveying  his 
boat  to  the  Delaware  by  sea ;  and  this 
boat,  which  was  so  near  reaping  the  honor 
of  first  success,  was  the  first  to  navigate 
the  ocean  by  steam.  One  of  the  most 
efficient  advocates  of  the  new  mode  of  nav 
igation  by  steam  was  DeWitt  Clinton. 

From  the  date  of  Fulton's  triumph  in 
1807,  steam  navigation  became  a  fixed  fact 
in  the  United  States,  and  went  on  extend 
ing  with  astonishing  rapidity.  Nor  could 
a  different  result  have  been  rationally 
expected  in  such  a  country  as  America. 

In  person,  Mr.  Fulton  was  about  six 
feet  high,  slender  form,  but  finely  propor 
tioned.  Nature  had  made  him  a  gentle 
man,  and  bestowed  upon  him  ease  and 
gracefulness.  A  modest  confidence  in  his 
own  worth  and  talents,  gave  him  an  unem 
barrassed  deportment  in  all  his  social 
intercourse.  He  expressed  himself  with 
energy,  fluency,  and  correctness,  and,  as  he 
owed  more  to  his  own  experience  and 
reflections  than  to  books,  his  sentiments 
were  often  interesting  from  their  original 
ity.  But  what  was  most  conspicuous  in 
his  character,  was  his  calm  constancy,  his 
industry,  and  that  indefatigable  patience 
and  perseverance,  which  always  enabled 
him  to  overcome  difficulties. 


XXII. 


EXTENSIVE  AND   CALAMITOUS    EARTHQUAKE   AT    THE 

WEST.— 1811. 


Its  Convulsive  Force  Felt  all  Over  the  Valley  of  the  Mississippi  and  to  the  Atlantic  Coast — The  Earth 
Suddenly  Bursts  Open  and  a  Vast  Hegion  of  Country  is  Sunk  and  Lost. — Awful  Chasms  and 
Upheavals. — lluin  and  Desolation  Brought  Upon  the  Inhabitants. — Ilumboldt's  Interesting  Opin 
ion  of  the  Western  Earthquake. — Its  Central  Point  of  Violence. — Terrible  Consternation  Produced. 
— The  Ground  Swellings  and  Crackings. — Great  Agitation  of  the  Waters. — Houses  Buried,  Boats 
Wrecked. — Giant  Forests  Crushed. — Purple  Tinge  of  the  Atmosphere. — Thunder,  Lightning,  Flood, 
Etc. — A  Mighty  Struggle. — Hills  and  Islands  I)isapj>ear. — Burial  Grounds  Engulfed. — Nature's 
Secrets  Unbosomed. — Lakes  Drained,  New  Ones  Formed  — Present  Aspect  of  the  Country  — 
Account  of  the  More  Recent  Earthquakes  in  California,  their  Characteristics  and  Destruetiveness. 
— Most  Serious  in  San  Francisco.— Lives  anil  Property  Lost — Women  and  Children  Panic-Struck. 
— Direction  of  the  Shocks  — Indications  of  their  Approach — Effect  in  the  Harbor  and  Bay. 


"  Diseased  nature  oftentimes  break!)  forth 

Jnstranne  eruptions  ;  and  the  teeming  earth 

I«  withn  kind  of  colic  pinch'd  and  vex'd 

Hy  the  Imprisoning  of  unruly  winds 

\Vithin  her  womb  ;  which,  fur  enlargement  striving, 

Shake  the  old  beldame  Earth,  and  topple  down 

Steeples  and  mot>s-2rown  towers." 


AFTEK  THE   EARTHQUAKE. 


ARTHQUAKES  in  the  United  States 
have  been  of  comparatively  rare  occur 
rence,  so  far  as  any  extensive  destruction 
of  life  and  property  has  been  involved. 
By  far  the  most  important  of  these,  prior 
to  the  disastrous  California  earthquakes  in 
1865  and  1868,  was  that  which  took  pla«v 
at  New  Madrid,  in  Missouri,  below  St. 
Louis,  on  the  Mississippi,  in  1811,  and 
which  is  always  spoken  of,  in  that  section, 
as  "the  great  earthquake."  Over  a  region 
of  country  three  hundred  miles  in  length, 
li-om  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio  to  that  of  the 
St.  Francis,  the  ground  rose  and  sank  in 
ureat  undulations,  and  lakes  were  formed, 
and  again  drained.  Humboldt  remarks 
that  it  presents  one  of  the  few  examples  of 
an  incessant  quaking  of  the  ground  for 
successive  months  far  from  an}'  volcano. 

The  central  point  of  violence  in  this 
remarkable  earthquake  was  thought  to  be 
near  the  Little  Prairie,  twenty-five  or 
'  hirty  miles  below  New  Madrid ;  the  vibra- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


219 


tions  from  which  were  felt  all  over  the 
vulley  of  the  Ohio,  as  high  up  as  Pitts- 
burg.  The  first  shock  was  felt  ou  the 
night  of  December  sixteenth,  1811,  and 
was  repeated  at  intervals,  with  decreasing 
severity,  into  February  following.  Xew 
Madrid,  having  suffered  more  than  any 
other  town  on  the  Mississippi  from  its 
effects,  was  considered  as  situated  near 
the  focus  from  whence  the  undulations 
proceeded. 

The  water  of  the  river,  which  the  day 
before  was  tolerably  clear,  being  rather 
low,  changed  to  a  reddish  hue,  and  became 
thick  with  mud  thrown  up  from  its  bottom, 
while  the  surface,  lashed  vehemently  by 
the  convulsion  of  the  earth  beneath,  was 
covered  with  foam,  which,  gathering  into 
masses  the  size  of  a  barrel,  floated  along 
on  the  trembling  surface.  The  earth  on 
the  shores  opened  in  wide  fissures,  and, 
closing  again,  threw  the  water,  sand  and 
mud,  in  huge  jets,  higher  than  the  tops  of 
the  trees.  The  atmosphere  was  filled  with 
a  thick  vapor  or  gas,  to  which  the  light 
imparted  a  purple  tinge,  altogether  differ 
ent  in  appearance  from  the  autumnal  haze 
of  an  Indian  summer,  or  that  of  smoke. 
From  the  temporary  check  to  the  current, 
by  the  heaving  up  of  the  bottom,  the  sink 
ing  of  the  banks  and  sand-bars  into  the  bed 
of  the  stream,  the  river  rose  in  a  few  min 
utes  five  or  six  feet ;  and.  impatient  of  the 
restraint,  again  rushed  forward  with 
redoubled  impetuosity,  hurrying  along  the 
boats,  now  set  loose  by  the  panic-stricken 
boatmen,  as  in  less  danger  on  the  water 
than  at  the  shore,  where  the  banks  threat 
ened  every  moment  to  destroy  them  by  the 
falling  earth,  or  carry  them  down  in  the 
vortices  of  the  sinking  masses.  Man}' 
boats  were  overwhelmed  in  this  manner, 
and  their  crews  perished  with  them. 
Numerous  boats  were  wrecked  on  the 
snags  and  old  trees  thrown  up  from  the 
bottom  of  the  Mississippi,  where  they  had 
quietly  rested  for  ages,  while  others  were 
sunk  or  stranded  on  the  sand-bars  and 
islands.  At  New  Madrid,  several  boats 
were  carried  by  the  reflux  of  the  current 
into  a  small  stream  that  puts  into  the 


river  just  above  the  town,  and  left  on  the 
ground  by  the  returning  water  a  very  con 
siderable  distance  from  the  Mississippi. 

It  is  an  interesting  coincidence,  that,  at 
this  precise  period,  the  first  steam-boat 
voyage  ever  made  in  western  waters,  added 
the  novelty  of  its  occurrence  to  the  con 
vulsions  of  nature  in  this  region.  The 
name  of  the  steam-boat  in  question  was  the 
New  Orleans,  commanded  by  Mr.  Roose 
velt.  On  arriving  about  five  miles  above 
the  Yellow  Banks,  near  New  Madrid,  they 
moored  opposite  to  a  vein  of  coal  on  the 
Indiana  side,  the  coal  having  been  pur 
chased  some  time  previously  for  the  steam 
er's  use.  The}*  found  a  large  quantity 
already  quarried  to  their  hand  and  con 
veyed  to  the  shore  by  depredators,  who, 
however,  had  not  means  to  carry  it  off; 
and  with  this  they  commenced  loading. 
While  thus  engaged,  the  voyagers  were 
accosted  in  great  alarm  by  the  squatters  in 
the  neighborhood,  who  inquired  if  they  had 
not  heard  strange  noises  on  the  river  and 
in  the  woods  in  the  course  of  the  preceding 
day,  and  perceived  the  shores  shake — 
insisting  that  they  had  repeatedly  heard 
the  earth  tremble.  Hitherto,  however, 
nothing  remarkable  had  been  perceived, 
and  the  following  day  they  continued 
their  monotonous  voyage  in  those  vast  sol 
itudes.  The  weather  was  oppressively 
hot ;  the  air  misty,  still  and  dull ;  and 
though  the  sun  was  visible,  like  an 
immense  and  glowing  ball  of  copper,  his 
rays  hardly  shed  more  than  a  mournful 
twilight  on  the  surface  of  the  water. 
Evening  drew  nigh,  and  with  it  some 
indications  of  what  was  passing  around 
them  became  evident,  for  the}-  ever  and 
anon  heard  a  rushing  sound  and  violent 
splash,  and  finally  saw  large  portions  of 
the  shore  tearing  away  from  the  land  and 
lapsing  into  the  watery  abyss.  An  eye 
witness  says :  "  It  was  a  startling  scene 
— one  could  have  heard  a  pin  drop  on 
deck.  The  crew  spoke  but  little;  they 
noticed,  too,  that  the  comet,  for  some  time 
visible  in  the  heavens,  had  suddenly  dis 
appeared,  and  every  one  on  board  was 
thunderstruck." 


220 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1770-1876. 


SCENE  OF  THE  GREAT  EARTHQUAKE  IN  THE  WEST. 


The  second  day  after  leaving  the  Yellow 
Banks,  the  sun  rose  over  the  forests,  the 
same  dim  ball  of  fire,  and  the  air  was  thick, 
heavy,    and   oppressive,    as   before.      The 
portentous  signs  of  this  terrible  natural 
convulsion  increased.     Alarmed  and  con 
fused,  the  pilot  affirmed  he  was  lost — as 
he  found  the  channel  everywhere   altered; 
and  where  he   had   hitherto   known  deep 
water,   there   lay   numberless   trees   with 
their  roots  upward.     The  trees  that  still 
remained  were  seen  waving  and  nodding 
on     the     banks,    without    a    wind.       The 
adventurers  had  of  course  no  choice  but  to 
continue    their   route  as  best  they  could, 
but  towards  evening  they  were  at  a  loss 
for  a  place  of  shelter.     They  had  usually 
brought  to,    under  the    shore,  but  at  all 
points  they  saw  the  high  banks  disappear 
ing,  overwhelming  many  an  unfortunate 
craft,  from  which  the  owners  had  landed, 
in  the  hope  of  effecting  their  escape.     A 
large   island  in    mid-channel,  which   had 
been  selected  by  the  pilot  as  the  better 
alternative,  was  sought  for  in  vain,  having 
totally    disappeared,     and     thousands    of 
acres  constituting  the   surrounding  coun 
try,  were  found  to  have  been  swallowed 
up,   with  their  gigantic  growth  of  forest 
and  cane. 


Thus,    in    doubt   and    terror,   they  pro 
ceeded  hour  after  hour,  until  dark,  when 
they  found  a  small  island,  and  rounded  to, 
mooring  at  the  foot  of  it.     Here  they  lay, 
keeping   watch  on  deck,  during  the  long 
night,  listening  to  the  sound  of  the  waters 
which  roared  and  whirled  wildly  around 
them — hearing,   also,   from    time  to  time, 
the    rushing   earth   slide  from  the  shore, 
and  the  commotion  of  the  falling  mass  as 
it   became    engulfed  in   the   river.      The 
lady  of  the  party  was  frequently  awakened 
from  her  restless  slumber,  by  the  jar  of 
the   furniture   and   loose    articles    in   the 
cabin,  as  in  the  course  of  the  night  the 
shock  of  the  pass'ng  earthquake  was  com 
municated  to  the  bows  of  the  vessel.     The 
morning   dawned  and  showed   they  were 
near  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio.     The  shores 
and  channel  were  now  equally  unrecogniz 
able — everything  seemed  changed.     About 
noon  that  day  they  reached  New  Madrid. 
Here  the  inhabitants  were  in  the  greatest 
consternation    and   distress.     Part  of  the 
population  had  fled  for  their  lives  to  the 
higher  grounds  ;  others  prayed  to  be  taken 
on  board  the   steamer,  as  the  earth  was 
opening  in  fissures  on  every  side,  and  their 
houses  hourly  falling  around  them.     Pro 
ceeding  thence  they  found  the  Mississippi, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


221 


at  all  times  a  fearful  stream,  unusually 
swollen,  turbid,  and  full  of  trees,  and  after 
many  days  of  extreme  danger,  finally 
reached  Natchez. 

After  shaking  the  valley  of  the  Mis 
sissippi  to  its  center,  the  earthquake 
vibrated  along  the  courses  of  the  rivers 
and  valleys,  and,  passing  the  primitive 
mountain  barriers,  died  away  along  the 
shores  of  the  Atlantic  ocean.  In  the 
region  of  its  greatest  force,  and  pending 
the  tremendous  elemental  strife  which 
finally  ensued,  the  current  of  the  Missis 
sippi  was  driven  back  from  its  source  with 
appalling  velocity  for  several  hours,  in  con 
sequence  of  an  elevation  of  its  bed.  But 
the  noble  river  was  not  thus  to  be  stayed 
in  its  course.  Its  accumulated  waters 
came  booming  on,  and,  overtopping  the 
barrier  thus  suddenly  raised,  carried  every 
thing  before  them  with  resistless  power. 
Boats,  then  floating  on  its  surface,  shot 
down  the  declivity  like  an  arrow  from  a 
bow,  amid  roaring  billows  and  the  wildest 
disorder.  A  few  days'  action  of  its  power 
ful  current  sufficed  to  wear  away  every 
vestige  of  the  barrier  thus  strangely  inter 
posed,  and  its  waters  moved  on  in  their 
wonted  channel  to  the  ocean,  seemingly 
rejoicing  in  their  triumph  over  the  oppos 
ing  elements  and  forces. 

The  day  that  succeeded  this  night  of 
dread  brought  no  solace  in  its  dawn. 
Shock  followed  shock  ;  a  dense  black  cloud 
of  vapor  overshadowed  the  land,  through 
which  no  struggling  sunbeam  found  its 
way  to  cheer  the  desponding  heart  of  man. 
The  appearances  that  presented  themselves 
after  the  subsidence  of  the  principal  com 
motion  were  indeed  staggering  to  the 
beholder.  Hills  had  disappeared,  and 
lakes  were  found  in  their  stead  ;  numerous 
lakes  became  elevated  ground,  over  the 
surface  of  which  vast  heaps  of  sand  were 
scattered  in  every  direction;  while  in 
many  places  the  earth  for  miles  was  sunk 
below  the  general  level  of  the  surrounding 
country,  without  being  covered  with  water, 
— leaving  an  impression  in  miniature  of  a 
catastrophe  much  more  important  in  its 
effects,  which  had,  perhaps,  preceded  it 


ages  before.  One  of  the  lakes  thus  formed 
is  sixty  or  seventy  miles  in  length,  and 
from  three  to  twenty  miles  in  breadth ;  it 
is  also  in  some  places  very  shallow,  and  in 
others  from  fifty  to  one  hundred  feet  deep, 
which  latter  is  much  more  than  the  depth 
of  the  Mississippi  river  in  that  quarter. 
In  sailing  over  its  surface,  one  is  struck 
with  astonishment  at  beholding  the  gigan 
tic  trees  of  the  forest  standing  partially 
exposed  amid  the  waste  of  waters,  branch 
less  and  leafless,  like  gaunt,  mysterious 
monsters.  But  this  wonder  is  still  further 
increased  on  casting  the  eye  on  the  dark- 
blue  profound,  to  witness  cane-brakes  cov 
ering  its  bottom,  over  which  a  mammoth 
species  of  tortoise  is  occasionally  seen  drag 
ging  its  slow  length  along,  while  countless 
millions  of  fish  are  sporting  through  the 
aquatic  thickets, — the  whole  constituting 
one  of  the  most  remarkable  features  in 
American  scenery  and  topography. 

The  lost  hills  or  islands  before  men 
tioned  are  of  A-arious  extent ;  some  twenty 
or  thirty  miles  in  circumference,  others 
not  so  large,  and  some  are  even  diminutive 
in  size,  but  of  great  altitude ;  occasionally 
furnished  with  fountains  of  living  water, 
and  all  well  timbered.  The  low  grounds 
are  in  the  form  of  basins,  connected  by 
openings  or  hollows ;  these,  not  being  as 
deep  as  the  bottom  of  their  reservoirs,  it 
happens  that,  when  an  inundation  takes 
place,  either  from  the  Mississippi  river  or 
streams  issuing  from  the  surrounding 
highlands,  they  are  filled  to  overflowing — 
and,  when  the  waters  recede  below  a  level 
with  these  points  of  communication,  they 
become  stagnant  pools,  passing  off  by  the 
process  of  infiltration,  which  is  very  slow, 
in  a  thick,  black,  tenacious  loam,  or  by 
evaporation  equally  gradual,  in  a  country 
covered  by  forests  and  impenetrable 
jungle.  At  New  Madrid  and  its  vicinity, 
the  earth  broke  into  innumerable  fissures  ; 
the  church-yard,  with  its  dead,  was  torn 
from  the  bank  and  embosomed  in  the 
turbid  stream;  and  in  many  places,  the 
gaping  earth  unfolded  its  secrets,  —  the 
bones  of  the  gigantic  mastodon  and  ich 
thyosaurus,  hidden  within  its  bosom  for 


222 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


ages,  being  brought  to  the  surface.  Even 
at  the  present  day.  frequent  slight  shocks 
of  earthquake  are  there  felt,  and  it  is 
asserted  that,  in  the  vast  swamp  at  the 
back  of  the  town,  strange  sounds  may  at 
times  be  heard,  as  of  some  mighty  cauldron 
seething  and  bubbling  in  the  bowels  of  the 
earth. 

Flint,  the  geographer,  who  visited  the 
country  seven  years  after  the  event,  says 
that,  at  the  time  of  his  visit,  a  district 
west  of  New  Madrid  still  remained  cov 
ered  with  water,  and  that  the  neighboring 
forest  presented  a  scene  of  great  confusion. 
He  also  saw  hundreds  of  deep  chasms  re 
maining  in  the  alluvial  soil,  which  were 
produced,  according  to  the  inhabitants,  by 
the  bursting  of  the  earth,  which  rose  in 
great  undulations,  and  discharged  prodig 
ious  volumes  of  water,  sand,  and  coaly 
matter,  thrown  up  to  a  great  height.  As 
the  shocks  lasted  throughout  a  period  of 
three  months,  the  country  people  remarked 
that,  in  particular  districts,  there  were 
certain  prevailing  directions  in  which  the 
fissures  opened,  and  they  accordingly 
felled  the  tallest  trees,  making  them  fall 
at  right  angles  to  the  direction  of  the 
chasms.  15y  stationing  themselves  on 
these,  the  inhabitants  often  escaped  being 
swallowed  up  when  the  earth  opened 
beneath  them. 

During  the  visit  of  Sir  Charles  Lyell  to 
this  region,  in  1846,  Mr.  Bringier,  the 
well-known  engineer,  related  to  him  that 
he  was  on  horseback  near  New  Madrid,  in 
1811,  when  some  of  the  severest  shocks 
were  experienced,  and  that,  as  the  waves 
advanced,  he  saw  the  trees  bend  down,  and 
often,  the  instant  afterward,  when  in  the 
act  of  recovering  their  position,  meet  the 
boughs  of  other  trees  similarly  inclined,  so 
as  to  become  interlocked,  being  prevented 
from  righting  themselves  again.  The 
transit  of  the  wave  through  the  woods  was 
marked  by  the  crashing  noise  of  countless 
branches,  first  heard  on  one  side  and  then 
on  the  other.  At  the  same  time,  powerful 
jets  of  water,  mixed  with  sand,  loam  and 
bituminous  shale,  were  cast  up  with  such 
impetuosity,  that  both  horse  and  rider 


might  have  perished,  had  the  swelling  and 
upheaving  ground  happened  to  burst  im 
mediately  beneath  them.  Some  of  the 
shocks  were  perpendicular,  while  others, 
much  more  desolating,  were  horizontal,  or 
moved  along  like  great  waves;  and  where 
the  principal  fountains  of  mud  and  water 
;  were  thrown  up.  circular  cavities,  called 
sink-holes,  were  formed. 

Hearing  that  some  of  these  cavities  still 
existed  near  the  town,  Professor  Lyell 
went  to  see  one  of  them,  three-quarters  of 
a  mile  to  the  westward.  There  he  found 
a  nearly  circular  hollow,  ten  yards  wide, 
and  five  feet  deep,  with  a  smaller  one  near 
it,  and,  scattered  about  the  surrounding 
level  ground,  were  fragments  of  black 
bituminous  shale,  with  much  white  sand. 
Within  a  distance  of  a  few  hundred  yards, 
were  five  more  of  these  "  sand-bursts."  or 
"sand-blows,"  as  they  are  sometimes 
termed,  and,  about  a  mile  farther  west, 
there  is  still  pointed  out  "the  sink-hole 
where  the  negro  was  drowned."  It  is  a 
striking  object,  interrupting  the  regularity 
of  a  flat  plain,  the  sides  very  steep,  and 
twenty-eight  feet  deep  from  the  top  to  the 
water's  edge. 

In  the  interesting  account  of  this  region 
and  of  the  event  in  question,  furnished  by 
Professor  Lyell,  in  his  book  of  travels,  he 
relates  the  reminiscences  of  a  citizen  of 
New  Madrid,  who  witnessed  the  earth 
quake  when  a  child.  He  described  the 
camping  out  of  the  people  in  the  night 
when  the  first  shocks  occurred,  and  how 
some  were  wounded  by  the  falling  of  chim 
neys,  and  the  bodies  of  others  drawn  out 
of  the  ruins;  and  confirmed  the  published 
statements  of  the  inhabitants  having 
availed  themselves  of  fallen  trees  to  avoid 
being  engulfed  in  open  fissures, — a  singu 
lar  mode  of  escape,  which,  curiously 
enough,  had  been  adopted  spontaneously 
in  different  and  widely-distant  places,  at 
the  same  time,  even  little  children  throw 
ing  themselves  thus  on  the  felled  trunks. 
Lyell  was  then  invited  to  go  and  see  sev 
eral  fissures  still  open,  which  had  been 
caused  by  the  undulatory  movement  of  the 
ground,  some  of  them  jagged,  others  even 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


223 


and  straight.  Two  of  them  were  traced 
continuously  for  more  than  half  a  mile, 
and  a  few  were  found  to  be  parallel ;  but, 
on  the  whole,  they  varied  greatly  in  direc 
tion,  some  being  ten  and  others  forty-live 
degrees  west  of  north.  They  might  easily 
have  been  mistaken  for  artificial  trenches, 
though  formerly  as  deep  as  wells ;  the 
action  of  rains,  frost,  and  occasional  inun 
dations,  and,  above  all,  the  leaves  of  the 
forest  blown  into  them  in  countless  num 
bers,  have  done  much  to  fill  them  up. 

In  that  part  of  the  forest  which  borders 
what  is  called  the  "sunk  country,"  all  the 
trees  of  a  date  prior  to  1811,  although 
standing  erect  and  entire,  are  dead.  They 
are  most  noticeable  objects,  are  chiefly 
oaks  and  walnuts,  with  trunks  several  feet 
in  diameter,  and  many  of  them  more  than 
two  hundred  years  old.  They  are  sup 
posed  to  have  been  killed  by  the  loosening 
of  the  roots  during  the  repeated  undula 
tions  which  passed  through  the  soil  for 
three  months  in  succession.  The  higher 
level  plain,  where  these  dead  monarchs  of 
the  forest  stand,  terminates  abruptly 


newer  than  1812.  The  "  sunk  country " 
extends  along  the  course  of  the  White 
Water  and  its  tributaries  for  a  distance  of 
between  seventy  and  eighty  miles  north 
and  south,  and  thirty  miles  east  and  west. 
It  is  not,  however,  confined  to  the  region 
west  of  the  Mississippi ;  for  several  exten 
sive  forest  tracts  in  Tennessee  were  sub 
merged  during  the  shocks  of  1811-12, 
and  have  ever  since  formed  lakes  and 
swamps. 

The  earthquakes  in  California,  especially 
those  which  occurred  in  1865  and  1868, 
and  both  in  the  month  of  October,  were 
the  most  disastrous  in  respect  to  the  value 
of  property  destroyed,  that  of  October  21, 
1868,  being  particularly  so.  At  San 
Francisco,  the  motion  was  east  and  west, 
and  several  buildings  on  Pine,  Battery, 
and  Sansome  streets  were  thrown  down,, 
and  a  considerable  number  badly  damaged. 
The  ground  settled,  which  threw  the  build 
ings  out  of  line.  The  principal  damage 
was  confined  to  the  lower  portion  of  the 
city,  below  Montgomery  street,  and  among 
old  buildings  on  the  made  ground.  The 


EARTHQUAKE  SCENE  IN  SAN  FRANCISCO. 


toward  the  bayou  St.  John,  and  the  sudden 
descent  of  eight  or  ten  feet  throughout  an 
area  four  or  five  miles  long,  and  fifty  or 
sixty  broad,  was  one  of  the  strange  results 
of  the  earthquake.  At  the  lower  level  are 
seen  cypresses  and  cotton-wood,  and  other 
trees  which  delight  in  wet  ground,  all 


custom-house,  a  brick  building  erected  on 
pile  ground,  which  was  badly  shattered  in 
the  earthquake  of  1865,  had  now  to  be 
abandoned  as  unsafe.  Business  in  the 
lower  part  of  the  city  was  suspended,  the 
streets  were  thronged  with  people,  and 
great  excitement  prevailed.  The  parapets, 


224 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


•walls  and  chimneys  of  a  number  of  houses 
fell,  causing  loss  of  life  and  many  accidents. 
At  one  place,  the  ground  opened  several 
inches  wide  and  about  forty  or  fifty  feet 
long ;  and  in  other  places,  the  ground 
opened,  and  water  forced  itself  above  the 
surface.  The  water  in  the  bay  was  per 
fectly  smooth  at  the  time  of  the  occurrence, 
and  no  perceptible  disturbance  took  place 
there ;  the  shock  was  felt  aboard  the  ship 
ping  in  the  harbor,  as  if  the  vessels  had 
struck  upon  the  rocks.  The  morning  was 
moderately  warm,  and  a  dense  fog  covered 
the  city.  Not  the  slightest  breeze  was 
perceptible.  The  first  indication  of  the 
approach  of  the  earthquake  was  a  slight 
rumbling  sound,  as  of  something  rolling 
along  the  sidewalk,  coming  apparently 
from  the  direction  of  the  ocean.  The 
shock  commenced  in  the  form  of  slow,  hor 
izontal  movements,  while  the  movements 
of  the  great  earthquake  of  1865  were  per 
pendicular.  The  effect  on  buildings,  too, 
of  the  earthquake  of  1868,  was  widely  dif 
ferent  from  that  of  1865.  In  the  latter, 
glass  was  broken  and  shivered  into  atoms 
in  all  the  lower  parts  of  the  city,  by  the 
perpendicular  oscillations,  while  compara 
tively  few  walls  were  shaken  down  or  badly 
shattered.  The  earthquake  of  1868  broke 
very  little  glass,  but  the  damage  by  the 
falling  of  cornices,  awnings,  and  walls, 
was  immense.  Mantel  ornaments  and 
shelved  crockery  were  everywhere  thrown 


down  and  broken ;  top-heavy  articles  of 
furniture  tumbled  over;  tanks  and  dishes 
containing  water  or  other  liquids  slopped 
their  contents;  clocks  stopped  running; 
door-bells  rang  ;  tall  structures,  like 
steeples  and  towers,  were  seen  to  sway, 
and  the  motion  of  the  earth  under  the 
feet  was  unpleasantly  plain  to  walkers; 
horses  started  and  snorted,  exhibiting 
every  sign  of  fear,  and  in  some  cases  dash 
ing  off  furiously  with  their  riders;  dogs 
crouched,  trembling  and  whining;  and 
fowls  flew  to  the  trees,  uttering  notes  of 
alarm.  The  panic  among  women  and 
children  was,  for  a  time,  excessive,  and 
their  cries  and  tears  were  very  moving. 

At  Oakland,  the  shock  was  very  severe, 
throwing  down  chimneys,  and  greatly 
damaging  buildings ;  in  several  localities, 
the  ground  opened,  and  a  strong  sulphu 
rous  smell  was  noticed  after  the  shock. 
The  court-house  at  San  Leandro  was 
demolished  and  one  life  lost.  At  San 
Jose,  several  buildings  were  injured.  The 
large  brick  court-house  at  Redwood  City 
was  completely  wrecked.  The  shock  was 
light  at  Marysville  and  Sonora,  and  severe 
at  Grass  Valley.  It  was  also  felt,  with  a 
good  deal  of  severity,  in  Stockton,  Sonoma, 
San  Lorenzo,  Alvarado,  San  Mateo,  Peta- 
luma,  Vallejo,  and  Sacramento;  in  the 
latter  place,  flag-staffs  and  trees  vibrated 
ten  feet,  and  the  water  in  the  river  rose 
and  fell  a  foot  and  a  half. 


XXIII. 

CAPTURE    OF   THE    BRITISH    FRIGATE    GUERRIERE    BY 
THE  II.  S.  FRIGATE  CONSTITUTION.— 1812. 


Captain  Dacres's  Insolent  Challenge  to  the  American  Navy. — Captain  Hull's  Eager  Acceptance — His 
"Unrivaled  Tactics  and  Maneuvers. — A  Short,  Terrific,  Decisive  Contest. — Yankee  Valor  on  the 
Ocean  a  Fixed  Fact,  Sternly  Respected. — The  Constitution  Becomes  the  Favorite  Ship  of  the 
Nation,  and  is  Popularly  Called  "Old  Ironsides." — Cruise  of  the  Constitution. — Hull,  the  "  Sea 
King,"  in  Command —A  Sail !  The  Enemy's  Squadron  !— Chased  Three  Days  by  Them.— Rowing 
and  Warping  in  a  Calm — Most  Wonderful  Escape  on  Record.— Another  Frigate  in  Sight,  the  Guer- 

riere. — Her  Signals  of  Defiance  — Yankee  Eagerness  for  Ac- 
tion.— The  Two  Frigates  Afoul.— Yard-arm  to  Yard-arm 
Encounter. — Fire  of  the  Constitution  Reserved. — Final  and 
Deadly  Broadsides. — Fearless  Conduct  of  her  Crew. — British 
Colors  Hauled  Down.— Sinking  of  the  Shattered  Wreck.— 
Armament  and  Power  of  the  Ships. — An  nlmost  Equal 
Match. — Anecdotes  of  the  Two  Commanders. — Honors  to  the 
Brave  Victors. — Future  Annals  of  the  Constitution. — Her 
Varied  and  Noble  Career. 


"  Never  before,  in  the  history  of  the  world,  did  an  English  frigate  strike  to  an  American, 
under  equal  circumstances." — LONDON  TIMES. 


ROUDEST  among  the  triumphs  of  the  American  flag  will  for 
ever  be  associated  the  career  of  that  noble  old  frigate,  the  Constitution, 
— re-christened,  by  popular  acclaim,  "  Old  Ironsides,"  for  her  grand 
and  victorious  resistance  to  British  domination  on  the  ocean,  in  succes 
sive  and  hotly-contested  battles.  The  greatest  of  these  triumphs  came,  too,  at  a 
time  when  the  public  heart  heaved  with  despondency;  and  the  sensibilities  of  a 
whole  nation,  deeply  wounded  by  the  ill-success  of  their  arms  on  the  frontier,  were 
suddenly  thrilled  with  joy  at  the  announcement  of  an  action  brilliant  bej-ond  all 
precedent  in  its  results,  in  the  annals  of  naval  warfare.  The  American  heart  beat 
high  and  warm,  as  the  news  of  this  proud  achievement  winged  itself  over  the  sea  and 
over  the  land,  and  from  the  western  to  the  eastern  hemisphere.  It  may  here  be 
stated,  as  an  interesting  naval  item,  that  the  first  commander  of  this  pet  frigate  was 
Commodore  Samuel  Nicholson,  brother  of  Commodore  James  Nicholson,  of  revolu 
tionary  note. 

Previous   to    the    final    declaration   of    war  against    Great  Britain,  in    June,  1812, 
preparation  had  been  made  by  the  United  States   government  to  send  to  sea,  imme 
diately  on  that  event,  all  the  frigates  and  armed  vessels  that  could  be  put  in  readi 
ness,  to  protect    American    commerce,  and    meet  the  enemy    on    the    ocean.     When, 
15 


226 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


however,  these  little  squadrons  left  their 
ports  to  contend  with  the  haughty  mistress 
of  the  seas,  every  American  breast  was 
filled  with  anxiety.  Indeed,  the  British 
naval  commanders  had  boasted  that  they 
would  drive  the  little  striped  bunting  of  the 
upstart  states,  in  affright  and  dismay, 
from  every  part  of  the  broad  ocean.  How 
the  Constitution  saved  herself,  on  first 
sighting  the  British  lion,  is  a  narrative 
uniting  the  romantic  and  miraculous. 

It  was  on  the  twenty-first  of  June,  that 
a  squadron,  consisting  of  the  President, 
the  United  States,  the  Congress,  the 
Hornet,  and  Argus,  under  the  com 
mand  of  Commodore  Rodgers,  sailed  from 
New  York  on  a  cruise  in  quest  of  British 
merchantmen,  then  on  their  way  from 
Jamaica  to  England.  Subsequently,  the 
frigate  Constitution,  Captain  Isaac  Hull, 
received  orders  to  join  the  squadron  of 
Rodgers,  and,  for  that  purpose,  sailed  from 
the  Chesapeake  on  the  twelfth  of  July. 
On  the  seventeenth,  being  off  Egg  Harbor, 
four  ships,  apparently  men-of-war,  were 
discovered  from  the  mast-head  to  the 
northward,  approaching  rapidly  with  a  fine 
breeze,  while  it  was  nearly  calm  about  the 
Constitution.  In  the  belief  that  it  was  the 
American  squadron,  waiting  her  arrival, 
every  effort  was  made  to  come  up  with 
them.  At  four  in  the  afternoon,  another 
ship  was  seen  to  the  north-east,  standing 
for  the  Constitution,  with  all  sails  set.  At 
ten  in  the  evening,  being  then  within  six 
or  eight  miles  of  the  strange  sail,  the  pri 
vate  signal  was  made  by  the  Constitution ; 
which  not  being  answered,  it  was  con 
cluded  that  they  were  the  enemy's  vessels. 

And  now  commenced  what  may  justly 
be  termed  the  most  remarkable  series  of 
naval  tactics  and  maneuvers  ever  known, 
— the  most  wonderful  chase  recorded  in 
nautical  history, — resulting  in  the  success 
ful,  and  almost  miraculous,  escape  of  the 
American  frigate  from  a  whole  squadron 
of  British  vessels,  commanded  by  Captain 
Broke,  in  close  pursuit  for  nearly  three 
days  and  nights  ! 

The  position  of  the  Constitution  seemed 
hopeless  indeed,  when  she  found  that  one 


of  the  enemy's  frigates  was  within  about 
five  or  six  miles,  and  a  line-of-battle  ship, 
a  frigate,  a  brig,  and  schooner,  some  ten  or 
twelve  miles  directly  astern,  all  in  chase 
of  her,  with  a  line  breeze,  and  coming  up 
fast, — while,  unfortunately,  the  wind  had 
entirely  left  the  Constitution,  so  that  tin- 
ship  would  not  steer,  but  fell  round  off 
with  her  head  towards  the  two  ships  under 
her  lee.  The  boats  were  instantly  hoisted 
out,  and  sent  ahead,  to  tow  the  ship's  head 
round,  and  to  endeavor  to  get  her  farther 
from  the  enemy,  being  now  within  live 
miles  of  three  heavy  frigates.  The  boats 
of  the  enemy  were  got  out  and  sent  ahead 
to  tow,  by  whirh,  with  the  light  air  that 
remained  with  them,  they  came  up  very 
fast.  Finding  the  enemy  gaining  on  him, 
and  but  little  chance  of  escaping,  Hull 
ordered  two  guns  to  be  ran  out  at  the  cabin 
windows  for  stern  guns  on  the  gun-deck, 
and  hoisted  one  of  the  twenty-four  pound 
ers  off  the  gun-deck,  and  ran  that,  with 
the  forecastle  gun,  an  eighteen-pounder, 
out  at  the  ports  on  the  quarter-deck,  and 
cleared  the  ship  for  action,  being  deter 
mined  they  should  not  capture  her,  with 
out  encountering  a  resistance  worthy  of 
Americans. 

At  about  seven  o'clock,  on  the  morning 
of  the  eighteenth,  the  nearest  ship  ap 
proached  within  gunshot  and  directly 
astern,  seeing  which,  Hull  ordered  one  of 
the  stern  guns  to  be  fired,  to  see  if  her 
masts  could  be  reached  and  disabled,  but 
the  shot  fell  a  little  short.  At  eight,  four 
of  the  enemy's  ships  were  nearly  within 
gunshot,  some  of  them  having  six  or  eight 
boats  ahead  towing,  with  all  their  oars  and 
sweeps  out,  to  row  them  up  to  the  Consti 
tution,  which  they  were  fast  doing.  It 
thus  appeared  that  the  noble  frigate  must 
be  taken — that  escape  was  impossible, — 
four  heavy  ships  being  already  so  near,  and 
coming  up  fast,  with  not  the  least  hope  of 
a  breeze  to  give  the  Constitution  a  chance 
of  getting  off  by  outsailing  them. 

In  this  situation,  and  finding  himself  in 
only  twenty-four  fathoms  of  water,  Hull, 
adopting  the  advice  of  Lieutenant  Morris, 
determined  to  try  and  warp  the  ship  ahead, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


227 


by  carrying  out  anchors  and  warping  her 
up  to  them.  Three  or  four  hundred  fath 
oms  of  rope  were  instantly  got  up,  and  two 
anchors  made  ready  and  sent  ahead,  by 
which  means  the  ship  began  to  distance 
the  enemy's  squadron ;  but  the  latter  soon 
saw  this  movement,  and  adopted  the  same 
plan,  under  very  advantageous  circum 
stances,  as  all  the  boats  from  the  British 
ships  furthermost  off,  were  sent  to  tow  and 
warp  up  those  nearest  to  the  Constitution, 
by  which  means  they  again  came  up, 
almost  within  gun-shot  reach. 

From  nine  to  twelve,  Hull  employed  all 
hands  in  warping  the  ship  ahead,  and  in 
starting  some  of  the  water  in  the  main 
hold  to  lighten  her,  which,  with  the  help 
of  a  slight  breeze,  enabled  the  Constitution 
to  rather  gain  upon  the  enemy.  About 
two.  in  the  afternoon,  all  the  boats  from 
the  line-of-battle  ship  and  from  some  of 
the  frigates  were  sent  to  the  foremost  frig 
ate,  to  endeavor  to  tow  her  along  more 
rapidly,  but,  a  light  air  springing  up,  the 
Constitution  held  way  with  her  pursuer, 
notwithstanding  the  latter  had  eight  or  ten 
boats  ahead,  and  all  her  sails  furled  to  tow 
her  to  windward.  The  wind  continued 
light  until  eleven  at  night,  and  Hull's 
boats  were  kept  ahead,  towing  and  warp 
ing  to  keep  out  of  the  reach  of  the  enemy, 
three  of  the  frigates  being  now  very  near; 
at  eleven,  however,  a  fresh  breeze  blew 
from  the  southward,  when  the  boats  came 
alongside  and  were  hoisted  up,  the  ship 
having  too  much  way  to  keep  them  ahead. 

On  the  nineteenth,  the  enemy  stood  six 
sail  in  sight,  still  in  chase,  with  all  can 
vas  spread,  and  very  near.  The  wind, 
however,  continued  to  increase,  gradually, 
during  the  whole  day,  and  Hull  gained  six 
or  eight  miles  upon  Broke,  notwithstand 
ing  the  latter  pressed  on  with  every  inch 
of  sail  he  could  fling  to  the  breeze.  The 
hopes  of  the  Americans  were  now  un 
bounded  in  their  buoyanc}',  and  these 
hopes  were  succeeded  by  unspeakable 
exultation,  when  it  was  discovered,  at  day 
light  on  the  morning  of  the  twentieth, 
that  only  three  of  the  British  vessels  could 
be  seen  from  the  mast-head,  the  nearest  of 


which  was  about  twelve  miles  off,  directly 
astern.  All  hands  were  now  set  at  work 
wetting  the  Constitution's  sails,  from  the 
royals  down,  by  means  of  the  engine  and 
fire-buckets,  and  it  was  soon  found  that 
the  enemy  was  left  far  in  the  rear.  At  a 
quarter-past  eight,  the  British,  finding  that 
they  were  fast  dropping  astern,  gave  over 
chase,  and  hauled  their  wind  to  the  north 
ward.  The  Constitution,  being  separated 
from  the  rest  of  the  American  squadron, 
made  immediately  for  Boston,  where  she 
arrived  in  safety,  and  remained  a  few  days. 

During  the  whole  of  this  most  remark 
able,  as  well  as  exciting  and  wearisome 
chase,  the  gallant  crew  of  the  Constitution 
remained  steadfastly  and  cheerfully  at 
their  stations,  without  murmur  or  confu 
sion,  and  not  only  they  and  their  officers, 
but  the  noble  ship  herself,  gained  a  high 
reputation  for  masterly  movement  and 
behavior.  Even  the  officers  of  the  British 
squadron  expressed  their  admiration  of  the 
consummate  nautical  knowledge  and  pro 
fessional  adroitness  displayed  by  Captain 
Hull,  in  maneuvering  his  ship  and  effecting 
his  escape. 

But  it  was  soon  to  be  proved  that  Hull 
was  no  less  a  sea-warrior  than  a  brilliant 
strategical  navigator.  On  the  second  day 


CAPTAIN    HULL. 


of  August,  Hull  again  put  to  sea,  pursuing 
an  easterly  course.  He  passed  near  the 
coast  as  far  down  as  the  bay  of  Fundy, 
then  ran  off  Halifax  and  Cape  Sable  ;  but, 
not  seeing  any  vessels  for  some  days,  Hull 
steered  toward  Newfoundland,  passed  the 


228 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


isle  of  Sables,  and  took  a  station  off  the 
gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  to  intercept  the 
Canada  trade.  "While  cruising  here,  lie 
captured  two  merchant-vessels.  On  the 
fifteenth,  lie  chased  a  convoy  of  five  sail, 
captured  one  of  them,  and  prevented  the 
prize-ship  of  an  American  privateer  from 
being  re-taken.  Having  received  informa 
tion  that  the  British  squadron  was  off  the 
Grand  Banks,  and  not  far  distant,  he 
changed  his  cruising-ground,  and  pro 
ceeded  southward. 

On  the  nineteenth  of  August,  1812,  at 
two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the  Constitu 
tion  being  in  latitude  forty-one  degrees 
and  forty-two  minutes  north,  and  fifty-five 
degrees  and  thirty-three  minutes  west 
longitude,  off  the  coast  of  Massachusetts, 
a  ship  was  discovered  from  the  mast-head 
of  the  Constitution.  Captain  Hull  in 
stantly  made  all  sail  in  chase,  and  soon 
gained  on  her.  At  three  o'clock,  it  could 
plainly  be  perceived  that  she  was  a  man- 
of-war,  on  the  starboard  tack,  under  easy 
sail,  close-hauled  to  the  wind  ;  and  by  half- 
past  three  the  stranger  was  ascertained  to 
be  a  British  frigate, — the  Guerriere,  Cap 
tain  James  A.  Dacres.  This  vessel  had 
hoisted  at  her  mast-head,  a  flag  with  her 
assumed  name,  the  Warrior,  in  large  char 
acters,  and  on  another  were  inscribed  the 
words,  '  Xot  the  Little  JMt,' — the  latter 
being  a  British  sloop-of-war  that  had  been 
badly  handled  in  an  engagement  with  the 
United  States  ship  President.  The  Guer 
riere  had  looked  into  several  ports  inquest 
of  American  frigates,  and  given  a  chal 
lenge  to  all  vessels  of  her  class.  On  the 
heaving  in  sight,  therefore,  of  the  Consti 
tution,  the  British  commander  assembled 
his  crew,  pointed  to  them  the  object  of 
their  wishes,  assured  them  of  an  easy  vic 
tory,  and  was  answered  by  three  hearty 
cheers.  So,  too,  the  announcement  by 
Captain  Hull,  that  the  ship  in  sight  was  a 
British  man-of-war,  and  probably  of  about 
the  same  force  as  the  Constitution,  was 
received  with  lively  exultation  by  the 
brave  American  crew. 

Eager  for  battle  and  hopeful  of  victory, 
Hull  ordered  the  light  sails  to  be  taken  in, 


the  courses  to  be  hauled  up,  and  the  ship 
to  be  cleared  for  action.  The  enemy  now 
backed  her  main-top-sail,  and  waited  for 
the  Constitution  to  come  down ;  and  as 
soon  as  the  latter  was  ready  for  action,  she 
bore  down,  intending  to  bring  to  im 
mediate  engagement  the  British  frigate 
which  had  been  from  the  very  first,  the 
object  of  such  eager  attention  by  the 
Americans,  on  account  of  her  line  ap 
pearance  and  peculiar  movements,  and 
leading  to  the  supposition  that  she  was 
a  craft  of  more  than  ordinary*  import 
ance  in  the  estimation  of  the  eneniv, 
—  a  supposition  that  did  not  fail  to  be 
realized. 

The  very  fact  that  she  bore  on  one 
of  her  Hags  the  words  just  quoted,  in 
dicated  that  the  feeling  engendered  by 
that  event  was  a  terribly  sore  one  to 
the  British,  and  that,  if  it  were  a  pos 
sible  thing,  the  wound  was  to  be  healed, 
at  the  first  opportunity,  by  some  sig 
nal  act  of  retribution. 

On  the  Constitution  coming  within  gun 
shot,  the  Guerriere  fired  a  broadside,  then 
filled  away,  wore,  and  gave  a  broadside  on 
the  other  tack;  this  firing,  however,  pro 
duced  no  effect,  as  the  shot  fell  short.  The 
British  frigate  maneuvered,  and  wore  sev 
eral  times,  for  about  three-quarters  of  an 
hour,  in  order  to  obtain  a  raking  position, 
but,  not  succeeding  in  this,  she  bore  u]> 
under  her  top-sails  and  jib,  with  the  wind 
on  the  quarter.  It  is  related  that,  during 
this  time,  the  Constitution  not  having 
fired  a  single  broadside,  the  impatience  of 
her  officers  and  men  to  engage  was  so 
excessive,  that  nothing  but  the  most  rigid 
discipline  could  restrain  them.  Hull, 
however,  was  preparing,  with  the  utmost 
calmness  and  deliberation,  to  decide  the 
contest  according  to  a  method  of  his  own. 

Making  sail  so  as  to  bring  the  Constitu 
tion  directly  up  with  her  antagonist,  and, 
at  five  minutes  before  six  in  the  afternoon, 
being  alongside  within  half  pistol  shot, 
Hull  ordered  a  brisk  firing  to  be  com 
menced  from  all  the  Constitution's  guns, 
which  were  double-shotted  with  round  and 
grape  shot ;  and  so  well-directed  and  so 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


229 


warmly  kej^  up  was  the  American  fire, 
that,  in  fifteen  minutes,  the  mizzen-mast 
of  the  Guerriere  went  by  tlie  board,  and 
her  main-yard  in  her  slings.  Her  hull 
was  much  injured,  and  her  rigging  and 
sails  completely  torn  into  shreds.  The 
fire  was  kept  up,  in  the  same  spirited 
manner,  for  fifteen  minutes  longer,  by  the 
Constitution.  She  had  now  taken  a  posi 
tion  for  raking,  on  the  bows  of  the  Guer 
riere,  when  the  latter  could  only  bring  her 
bow  guns  to  bear  on  the  Constitution;  the 
grape-shot  and  small-arms  of  the  latter 
ship  completely  swept  the  decks  of  the 
British  frigate,  and  she  was  an  utter 
wreck. 

Thirty  minutes  after  the  commencement 
of  the  contest,  by  the  Constitution,  the 
main-mast  and  fore-mast  of  the  Guerriere 
went  by  the  board,  taking  with  them  every 
spar  except  the  bowsprit.  Seeing  her  con 
dition,  Captain  Hull  ordered  the  firing  to 
cease  ;  and  Captain  Dacres  then  struck  his 
colors,  which  had  been  fastened  to  the 
stump  of  the  mizzen-mast. 

Setting  her  fore  and  main  sails,  the  Con 
stitution  now  hauled  to  the  eastward,  to 
repair  damages.  All  her  braces,  a  great  part 
of  her  standing  and  running  rigging,  and 
some  of  her  spars,  were  shot  away.  At 
seven  in  the  evening,  she  stood  under  the 
lee  of  the  prize,  and  sent  a  boat  on  board, 
which  returned  in  a  short  time  with  Captain 
Dacres,  commander  of  the  ill-fated  frigate. 
In  the  action,  the  Constitution  lost  seven 
killed,  and  seven  wounded  ;  the  Guerriere, 
fifteen  killed,  and  sixty-two  wounded, — 
the  latter  including  several  officers,  and 
there  were  twenty-four  missing.  Among 
the  killed,  on  board  of  the  Constitution, 
was  Lieutenant  Bush ;  and  among  the 
wounded,  First  Lieutenant  Morris  and 
Master  Alwyn.  The  circumstances  were 
as  follows :  As  soon  as  the  two  vessels 
fell  afoul  of  each  other,  the  cabin  of 
the  Constitution  was  observed  to  take 
fire,  from  the  close  explosion  of  the 
forward  guns  of  the  enemy,  who  obtained 
a  small,  though  but  momentary,  advantage 
from  his  position ;  the  ready  attention, 
however,  of  Lieutenant  Hoffman,  who 


commanded  in  the  cabin,  soon  repaired 
this  accident,  and  a  gun  of  the  enemy's, 
that  threatened  further  injury,  was  effect 
ually  disabled.  But,  in  a  moment,  affairs 
took  a  more  tragical  turn,  for,  the  vessels 
having  come  close  together,  both  parties 
prepared  to  board.  The  English  turned 
all  hands  up  from  below,  and  mustered  for 
ward,  with  that  object,  while  Lieutenant 
Morris,  Master  Alwyn,  and  Lieutenant 
Bush,  sprang  upon  the  taffrail  of  the  Con 
stitution,  with  a  similar  intention.  The 
position  of  the  tAvo  frigates  was  already 
giving  employment  to  the  sharpshooters  of 
either  side,  and  incessant  volleys  of  mus 
ketry  rattled  in  the  tumult  all  around. 
Morris  was  shot  through  the  body,  but 
maintained  his  post,  the  bullet  fortunately 
missing  the  vitals.  Alwyn  was  wounded 
in  the  shoulder.  Bush,  just  as  he  was 
making  the  spring,  was  pierced  by  a  ball 
in  the  head,  and  tumbled  headlong,  in  the 
speedy  agonies  of  death. 

On  the  Guerriere's  striking  her  flag,  and 
being  in  a  sinking  condition,  Captain  Hull 
immediately  sent  his  boats  to  bring  the 
wounded  and  prisoners  on  board  the  Con 
stitution.  At  about  two  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,  a  sail  was  discovered  off  the  lar 
board  beam,  standing  to  the  south.  The 
Constitution  was  instantly  cleared  for 
action ;  but  at  three,  the  vessel  stood 
away.  At  daybreak,  information  was 
received  from  the  lieutenant  on  board  the 
prize,  that  the  Guerriere  was  an  unman 
ageable  wreck,  with  four  feet  of  water  in 
the  hold,  and  in  a  sinking  condition.  As 
soon,  therefore,  as  all  the  crew  were 
removed  from  on  board  of  her,  she  was 
abandoned,  and  her  shattered  hulk  set  fire 
to  and  blown  up.  During  the  whole 
period  of  combat,  the  total  loss  on  board 
the  Constitution  amounted  to  seven  killed 
and  seven  wounded,  and,  as  soon  as  she 
had  rove  new  rigging,  applied  the  neces 
sary  stoppers,  and  bent  a  few  sails,  she 
was  ready,  as  has  been  seen,  to  engage 
another  frigate.  Captain  Hull,  in  his 
tribute  to  his  crew,  says :  "  They  all 
fought  with  great  bravery;  from  the 
smallest  boy  in  the  ship  to  the  oldest 


230 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


I    "     ' 

ACTION  IlETWEEN  THK   FKIOATKS  roNSTITt'TION  AND  RUERRIERE. 


seaman,  not  a  look  of  fear  was  seen.  They 
all  went  into  action  giving  three  cheers, 
and  requesting  to  be  laid  close  alongside 
the  enemy."  In  the  very  heat  of  the 
engagement,  one  of  the  crew  of  the  Con 
stitution,  perceiving  that  the  flag  at  the 
foretop-mast  head  had  been  shot  away, 
went  up  with  it,  and  lashed  it  so  securely 


as  to  render  its  removal  impossible,  unless 
the  mast  went  with  it. 

The  total  casualties,  from  first  to  last, 
on  board  the  Guerriere,  in  killed  and 
wounded,  numbered  nearly  eighty,  com 
prising  about  one-third  of  her  entire  crew, 
and,  according  to  the  statement  of  Captain 
Dacres,  in  his  defense  before  the  court 


GEE  AT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


231 


which  tried  him  for  the  loss  of  his  ship, 
she  had,  besides  being  dismasted,  received 
no  less  than  thirty  shot  as  low  as  five 
sheets  of  copper  beneath  the  bends. 

In  respect  to  armament  and  force,  the 
Gnerriere  rated  thirty-eight  guns,  and  car 
ried  forty-nine,  one  of  which  was  a  light 
boat-carronade.  Her  gun-deck  metal  was 
eighteen-pounders,  and  her  carronades,  like 
those  of  the  Constitution,  thirty-twos. 
The  Guerriere  was  a  French-built  ship, 
and  nearly  as  long  as  her  adversary, 
though  the  latter  was  somewhat  larger  and 
heavier.  The  Constitution  rated  forty- 
four  guns,  and  mounted  fifty-five.  On  an 
actual  weight,  however,  of  lhe  shot  of  both 
ships,  it  was  found  that  tne  Constitution's 
twenty-fours  were  only  three  pounds  heav 
ier  than  the  Guerriere's  eighteens,  and 
there  was  nearly  the  same  difference  in 
favor  of  the  latter's  thirty-twos.  The 
great  inferiority  of  the  Guerriere  was  in 
her  men,  as  she  mustered  but  two  hundred 
and  sixty-three  souls  at  quarters,  in  conse 
quence  of  the  absence  of  some  of  the  offi 
cers  and  men  who  had  charge  of  prizes. 
Captain  Dacres  had  also  some  ten  or  a 
dozen  Americans  in  his  force,  who  refused 
to  fight,  and,  much  to  his  credit,  he  per 
mitted  them  to  go  below.  The  Constitu 
tion's  complement  of  men  was  four  hundred 
and  fifty,  all  newly  shipped. 

The  character  and  peculiarities  of  this 
victory  have  been  justly  described,  by 
Cooper,  as  consisting  in  a  fine  display  of 
seamanship  in  the  approach,  extraordinary 
efficiency  in  the  attack,  and  great  readiness 
in  repairing  damages,  all  of  which  denote  a 
disciplined  man-of-war.  Nor  did  Captain 
Dacres  lose  any  professional  honor  by  his 
defeat.  He  had  handled  his  ship  in  a 
manner  to  win  the  applause  of  his  enemies, 
and  only  submitted  when  further  resist 
ance  would  have  been  as  culpable  as,  in 
fact,  it  was  impossible.  Less  can  be  said  in 
favor  of  the  efficiency  of  the  Guerriere's 
batteries,  which  were  not  equal  to  the  mode 
of  fighting  introduced  by  her  antagonist, 
and  which,  indeed,  was  the  commencement 
of  a  new  era  in  combats  between  single 
ships.  Never  was  any  firing  so  dreadful. 


The  news  of  this  brilliant  and  unexam 
pled  victory — the  first,  in  fact,  of  any 
importance,  as  yet  obtained  by  the  United 
States  in  the  present  contest,  —  was 
received  with  rapturous  applause  by  the 
American  people,  especially  in  view  of  the 
victory  having  been  achieved  on  the  water, 
an  element  upon  which  scarcely  any  Euro 
pean  nation  dared  to  cope  with  Brit 
ish  prowess.  The  event  was  therefore  as 
mortifying  to  the  pride  of  England  as  can 
possibly  be  imagined ;  for,  in  the  long 
period  of  thirty  years  up  to  this  date,  it 
was  Britain's  boast  that  she  had  not  lost  a 
single  frigate  in  anything  like  an  equal 
conflict.  By  the  English  journals,  the 
American  navy  was  contemptuously  spoken 
of  as  "a  few  fir-built  frigates,  manned  by 
a  handful  of  dastards  and  outlaws  !  "  But 
the  generosity  and  heroism  of  Captain 
Hull  and  his  crew  extorted  praise  even 
from  the  vanquished.  Captain  Dacres,  in 
his  official  letter,  confesses  their  conduct 
to  have  been  "  that  of  a  brave  enemy — the 
greatest  care  being  taken  to  prevent  our 
men  losing  the  slightest  article,  and  the 
greatest  attention  being  paid  to  the 
wounded."  This  victory  of  Hull,  on  the 
ocean,  went  far  to  wipe  out  the  stain  upon 
American  arms  produced  by  General  Wil 
liam  Hull's  unfortunate  campaign  in 
Canada.  The  victory  of  the  Constitution 
over  the  Guerriere  was  soon  followed  by 
the  capture  of  the  Frolic  by  the  United 
States  sloop-of-war  Wasp,  under  Lieuten 
ant  Biddle  ;  the  capture  of  the  Macedo 
nian,  a  large  frigate,  by  Commodore 
Decatur,  of  the  frigate  United  States;  and 
the  capture  of  the  frigate  Java,  on  the 
twenty-ninth  of  December,  by  Commodore 
Bainbridge,  who  had  succeeded  Hull  in 
command  of  the  Constitution. 

An  amusing  anecdote  is  related  of 
Dacres,  showing  the  effect  of  circum 
stances  upon  the  gallant  captain's  temper. 
A  short  time  previous  to  her  capture  by 
the  Constitution,  the  Guerriere  had  fallen 
in  with,  and  taken,  a  French  prize,  France 
and  England  being  then  at  war.  Among 
the  passengers  transferred  on  this  occasion 
to  the  deck  of  the  Guerriere,  was  a  French 


232 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


gentleman  charged  with  dispatches  to  the 
American  government,  and  who,  on  pre 
senting  himself  to  the  British  commander, 
was  dispossessed  of  his  books  and  papers, 
and  peremptorily  ordered  to  go  below. 
Overwhelmed  with  this  sudden  and  fatal 
termination  of  his  mission,  the  gentleman 
passed  several  days  in  great  distress  of 
mind,  aggravated  not  a  little  by  the 
haughty  bearing  of  Dai-res.  Once  or 
twice,  addressing  him  with  his  blandest 
manner  and  best  English,  he  said — 

"Captain  Dacre,  I  tank  yon,  sare,  for 
my  government  deespatch  and  my  law 
books." 

"  Go  below !  you  frog-eating,  sallow- 
faced  wretch,"  was  the  only  reply  of  the 
proud  Briton. 

Ere  long,  however,  a  sail  was  descried 
on  the  edge  of  the  distant  horizon.  Her 
gradually-increasing  size  gave  token  that 
she  approached,  and,  as  she  neared  to 
view,  the  tapering  spars  and  the  graceful 
trim  of  Yankeedom  were  seen.  Dacres, 
with  glass  in  hand,  had  observed  her  from 
a  mere  speck,  and  as  soon  as  lie  was  satis 
fied  that  she  was  American,  gave  vent  to 
the  wildest  expressions  of  joy.  He  paced 
the  deck  with  exulting  step  —  swore  he 
would  '  take  that  craft  in  fifteen  minutes,' — 
and,  to  crown  his  anticipated  triumph, 
directed  that  a  hogshead  of  molasses  be 
hoisted  upon  deck,  '  to  treat  the  - 
Yankees.'  Strange  as  it  may  appear,  this 
order  was  actually  obeyed ;  and,  at  almost 
the  first  shot,  the  Constitution  struck  the 
hogshead,  and,  its  contents  spreading  over 
the  deck,  conduced  somewhat,  no  doubt,  to 
the  Guerriere's  disadvantage  in  the  action. 
The  Frenchman,  who  was  meanwhile  a 
silent  though  not  an  uninterested  observer 
of  what  was  passing  before  him,  again 
put  on  his  most  winning  smiles,  and 
remarked — 

"Captain  Dacre,  sare,  wid  your  permis 
sion  I  stay  upon  deck,  and  see  de  fight." 

"Go  to  the  -  — ,"  responded  the  rough 
old  salt — now  busied  in  preparations  for  a 
bold  and  brilliant  achievement. 

The  little  Frenchman  was  soon  snuglv 
ensconced  among  the  rigging,  and  the  two 


vessels  continued  gradually  and  silently  to 
approach  each  other.  The  Constitution 
having  finally  got  within  reach  of  the 
enemy's  long-guns,  the  scene  that  followed 
is  thus  described  by  the  lively  ''deespatch" 
bearer: — "Captain  Dacre,  he  sail  dis  way, 
and  den  he  sail  dat  way.  and  again  he  go 
— doom  !  De  Yankee  man,  he  say  nothing 
— but  still  keep  comin'.  Again,  Captain 
Dacre  sail  dis  way,  and  den  he  sail  dat 
way,  and  again  he  go — boom  !  Enfin,  de 
Yankee  man  go  pop,  pop,  pop, — pop,  pop, 
pop  !  I  say  to  Captain  Dacre,  '  Sare,  wid 
your  permission  I  go  below — V/.<  too  Itot 
here'"' 

He  went  below ;  and  the  action  con 
tinued.  When  the  firing  ceased,  the  sleep 
less  little  Frenchman,  peeping  up  the 
hatchway,  espied  one  officer-like  man,  and 
Captain  Dacres  handing  his  sword.  The 
truth  flashed  upon  him  in  an  instant.  He 
rushed  upon  deck ;  and  finding  himself 
again  at  liberty,  he  capered  about  like  one 
'possessed.'  Finally  advancing  to  the 
now  mute  and  fallen  Dacres,  lie  said,  with 
an  air  which  utterly  defies  description  : 

"  You  tell  me,  sare,  you  take  dis  ship  in 
fifteen  minutes;  by  gar,  he  take  yon.! 
Nowr,  sare,"  he  added,  with  a  low  and 
bitter  emphasis,  "  I  tank  you  for  my  gov 
ernment  deespatch  and  law  books" 

As  has  already  been  stated,  the  crew  of 
the  Constitution  became  somewhat  impa 
tient  at  Hull's  cool  delay  to  commence 
action,  after  receiving  the  Guerriere's  first 
fire.  Even  Morris,  on  seeing  his  favorite 
coxswain  carried  by  a  shot,  looked  rather 
hard  at  'the  old  man,'  as  Hull,  though 
young  in  years,  was  familiarly  called,  and 
then  walked  up  to  him,  saying,  by  way  of 
hint,  in  a  low  tone,  "The  ship  is  ready  for 
action,  sir,  and  the  men  are  getting  impa 
tient."  Hull  never  turned,  but.  keeping 
his  eye  steadily  on  the  enemy,  simply 
replied,  "Are — you  —  all  ready,  Mr. 
Morris?"  "All  ready,"  said  the  lieuten 
ant.  "Don't  fire  a  gun  till  I  give  the 
orders,  Mr.  Morris,"  was  the  rejoinder. 
Presently,  up  went  a  midshipman  from  the 
main  deck,  and,  touching  his  cap,  said  to 
'the  old  man,'  "First  division  all  ready, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


233 


sir, — the  second  lieutenant  reports  the 
enemy's  shot  have  hurt  his  men,  and  he 
can  with  difficulty  restrain  them  from 
returning  their  fire."  "  Tell  them  to  wait 
for  orders,"  was  Hull's  reply  again,  with 
out  deigning  to  turn  his  head.  At  length, 
however,  when  the  Constitution  had  actu 
ally  become  enveloped  in  the  enemy's 
smoke,  and  even  the  old  gun-boat  men 
began  to  stare  wonderingly,  up  jumped  the 
great-hearted  Hull  in  the  air,  slapped  his 
hand  on  his  thigh  with  a  report  like  a 
pistol,  and  roared  out  in  a  voice  that 
reached  the  gunners  in  the  magazines, — 

"  Now,  Mr.  Morris,  give  it  to  them, — 
now  give  it  to  them, — fore  and  aft, — round 
and  grape, — give  it  to  Jem,  sir, — give  it  to 
'em  !  " 

These  words  were  scarcely  uttered, 
before  a  whole  broadside  glanced  at  half 
pistol  shot — the  old  ship  trembling  from 
her  keel  to  her  trucks,  like  an  aspen, 
with  the  roar  and  crash  of  her  own  guns, 
— then,  instantly  shooting  ahead  and 
doubling  across  the  enemy's  bows,  another 


broadside  was  poured  into  her,  with 
three  deafening  cheers.  It  was  terrible. 
The  continual  boom  and  flash  of  the 
batteries  seemed  like  a  thunder-storm  in 
the  tropics. 

The  Constitution  arrived  in  Boston 
harbor,  the  last  of  August.  Never  did  any 
event  spread  such  universal  joy  over  the 
whole  country,  and  such  astonishment 
throughout  Europe,  as  this  complete  and 
magnificent  victory.  The  gallant  Hull, 
as  well  as  his  equally-gallant  officers  and 
crew,  were  received  with  enthusiastic  dem 
onstrations  of  gratitude,  wherever  they 
appeared.  He  was  presented  with  the 
freedom  of  all  the  cities,  on  his  route  to  the 
seat  of  government,  and  with  elegant  serv 
ices  of  silver-plate,  also  the  thanks  of  leg 
islative  and  other  bodies  ;  several  officers 
were  promoted ;  and  congress  voted  fifty 
thousand  dollars  to  the  crew,  as  a  recom 
pense  for  the  loss  of  the  prize. 

At  home  and  abroad,  the  valor  of  the 
American  sailor  was  acknowledged  to  be 
a  fixed  fact. 


XXIV. 

AMERICA    AND    ENGLAND    MATCHED    AGAINST     EACH 
OTHER   IN    SQUADRON    COMBAT.— 1813. 


Lake  Erie  the  Scene  of  the  Encounter. — Sixteen  Vessels  Engaged. — The  British,  under  Captain  Bar 
clay,  one  of  Lord  Nelson's  Veteran  Officers,  and  with  a  Superior  Force,  are  Thoroughly  Beaten  by 
the  Americans,  under  Commodore  Oliver  H.  Perry. — Every  British  Vessel  Captured  — General  Harrison 
Completes  the  Victorious  Work  on  Land  — Building  of  the  Fleet  on  the  Lake. — Great  Difficulties  to  he 
Overcome. — Commodore  Perry  the  Master  Spirit. — Completion  and  Sailing  of  the  Fleet. — Challenge 
to  the  Enemy. — Line  of  Battle  Formed. — Perry's  Blue  Union-Jack. — Its  Motto,  "Don't  Give  Up  the 
Ship!" — Wild  Enthusiasm  of  his  Men. — Flagship  Lawrence  in  the  Van — Meets  the  Whole  Opposing 
Fleet. — Badly  Crippled  in  a  Two  Hours'  Fight. — Huzzas  of  the  Enemy. — The  Day  Supposed  to  be 
Theirs — Indomitable  Resolution  of  Perry. — lie  Puts  Off  in  an  Open  Boat. — Reaches  the  Niagara  with 
His  Flag. — Again  Battles  svith  the  Foe. — Severe  and  Deadly  Conflict. — American  Prowess  Invincible. 
— Barclay  Strikes  His  Colors. — Perry  only  Twenty-seven  Years  Old. 


"  We  have  met  the  enemy,  and  they  are  our*."—  PEKRT'S  MKMORABLE  DISPATCH  ANNOUNCING  His  VICTORY, 


OREIGN  nations,  who  still  smiled  incredulously  at  the  pre- 
i  tensions  of  the  United  States  in  carrj'ing  on  an  ocean  \v;ir- 
:'2  f;m>  with  the  proud  "mistress  of  the  seas/' — as  England 
was  everywhere  acknowledged  to  be, — were  now  to  receive, 
in  addition  to  the  splendid  victory  of  the  United  States 
frigate  Constitution  over  the  Guerriere,  fresh  and  decisive 
PERRY'S  FLAG  ox  LAKE  ERIE,  proof  of  the  naval  supremacy  of  the  youthful  republic,  in  the 
magnificent  triumph  achieved  by  Commodore  Oliver  H.  Perry,  on  the  waters  of  Lake 
Erie.  Here,  for  the  first  time  in  the  history  of  the  western  world,  the  flag  of  a 
British  squadron  was  struck,  humiliatingly,  to  the  Americans.  Great  Britain  had 
already  been  signally  defeated  in  single  naval  combats,  during  the  present  contest; 
she  was  now  beaten  in  squadron, — every  one  of  her  ships  striking  their  colors  to 
the  stars  and  stripes. 

The  unexpected  and  disgraceful  surrender  of  the  northern  army  under  General 
Hull,  to  the  British,  rendered  a  superior  force  on  Lake  Erie  necessary  for  the  de 
fense  of  the  American  territory  bordering  on  the  lake,  as  well  as  for  offensive  opera 
tions  in  Canada.  Under  these  circumstances  Oliver  H.  Perry,  a  brave  and  accom 
plished  young  officer,  who  had  the  command  of  a  gunboat  flotilla  for  the  defense 
of  New  York,  was  designated  to  the  command  on  Lake  Erie.  But,  at  this  time,  the 
United  States  possessed  no  naval  force  on  the  lake ;  the  only  vessels  belonging  to 
the  government  were  captured  at  Detroit.  The  southern  or  American  lake  shore, 
being  principally  a  sand  beach  formed  by  the  sediment  driven  by  the  northerly 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


235 


winds,  afforded  but  few  harbors,  and  those 
encumbered  with  bars  at  their  entrance. 
At  Presque  Isle,  ninety  miles  west  of  l>uf- 
fulo,  a  peninsula  extending  a  considerable 
distance  into  the  lake  encircles  a  harbor,  on 
the  borders  of  which  was  the  port  of  Erie. 

At  this  place,  Commodore  Perry  was 
directed  to  locate,  and  superintend  a  naval 
establishment,  the  object  of  which  was  to 
create  a  superior  force  on  the  lake.  The 
difficulties  of  building  a  navy  in  the  wil 
derness  can  only  be  conceived  by  those 
who  have  experienced  them.  There  was 
nothing  at  this  spot  out  of  which  it  could 
be  built,  but  the  timber  of  the  forest. 
Ship-builders,  sailors,  naval  stores,  guns, 
and  ammunition,  were  all  to  be  transported 
by  land,  in  wagons,  and  over  bad  roads,  a 
distance  of  four  hundred  miles,  either  from 
Albany  by  the  way  of  Buffalo,  or  from 
Philadelphia  by  the  way  of  Pittsburg. 
But  under  all  these  embarrassments,  by 
the  first  of  August,  1813,  Commodore 
Perry  had  provided  a  flotilla,  consisting  of 
the  ships  Lawrence  and  Niagara,  of  twenty 
guns  each,  and  seven  smaller  vessels,  to 
wit,  one  of  four  guns,  one  of  three,  two  of 
two,  and  three  of  one. 

While  the  ships  were  building,  the 
enemy  frequently  appeared  off  the  harbor 
and  threatened  their  destruction  ;  but  the 
shallowness  of  the  water  on  the  bar,  there 
being  but  five  feet,  prevented  their  ap 
proach.  The  same  cause,  which  insured 
the  safety  of  the  vessels  while  building, 
seemed  likely  to  prevent  their  being  of 
any  service  when  completed.  The  two 
largest  drew  several  feet  more  water  than 
there  was  on  the  bar.  The  inventive 
genius  of  Perry,  however,  soon  surmounted 
this  difficulty.  He  placed  large  scows  on 
each  side  of  these  two,  filled  them  so  that 
they  sank  to  the  water-edge,  then  attached 
them  to  the  ships  by  strong  pieces  of 
timber,  and  pumped  out  the  water.  The 
scows,  in  this  way,  buoyed  up  the  ships, 
enabling  them  to  pass  the  bar  in  safety. 
This  operation  was  performed  in  the  very 
eyes  of  the  enemy. 

Having  gotten  his  fleet  in  readiness, 
Commodore  Perry  proceeded  to  the  head 


of  the  lake  and  anchored  in  Put-in  Bay, 
opposite  to  and  distant  thirty  miles  from 
Maiden,  where  the  British  fleet  lay  under 
the  guns  of  the  fort.  He  remained  at 
anchor  here  several  days,  watching  the 
British  fleet,  and  waiting  a  chance  to 
offer  battle. 

On  the  morning  of  the  tenth  of  Septem 
ber,  1813,  the  enemy  was  discovered  bear 
ing  down  upon  the  American  force,  which 
immediately  got  under  weigh,  and  stood 
out  to  meet  him.  Perry  had  nine  vessels, 
consisting  of  the  Lawrence,  his  flag-ship, 
of  twenty  guns ;  the  Niagara,  Captain 
Elliott,  of  twenty  ;  the  Caledonian,  Lieu 
tenant  Turner,  of  three;  the  schooner 
Ariel,  of  four;  the  Scorpion,  of  two;  the 
Somers,  of  two  guns  and  two  swivels  ;  the 
sloop  Trippe,  and  schooners  Tigress  and 
Porcupine,  of  one  gun  each. 

The  force  of  the  British  consisted  of  the 
Detroit,  flag-ship  of  Commodore  Barclay, 
and  carrying  nineteen  guns  and  two  how 
itzers  ;  the  Queen  Charlotte,  Captain 
Finnis,  of  seventeen  guns  ;  the  schooner 
Lady  Prevost,  Lieutenant  Buchan,  of 
thirteen  guns  and  two  howitzers  ;  the  brig 
Hunter,  of  ten  guns;  the  sloop  Little 
Belt,  of  three  guns ;  and  the  schooner 
Chippewa,  of  one  gun  and  two  swivels. 
Thus,  the  belligerents  stood,  in  respect  to 
force  and  power,  as  follows :  The  Ameri 
cans  had  nine  vessels,  carrj-ing  fifty-four 
guns  and  two  swivels ;  the  British,  six 
vessels,  carrying  sixty-three  guns,  four 
howitzers,  and  two  swivels. 

Commodore  Perry  got  under  way  with 
a  light  breeze  at  the  south-west.  Sum 
moning  his  commanding  officers  by  signal 
to  the  deck  of  the  Lawrence,  lie  gave  them 
in  a  few  words  their  last  instructions  pre 
paratory  to  the  approaching  battle,  and, 
unfolding  his  union-jack,  a  blue  flag  upon 
which  was  inscribed  in  white  letters  the 
motto  of  the  American  navy,  "  DON'T 
GIVE  UP  THE  SHIP  ! "  The  sight  of  this 
flag,  bearing  upon  it  the  dying  words  of 
the  brave  Captain  Lawrence,  brought  the 
most  enthusiastic  cheers  from  the  crew. 
As  the  officers  were  about  taking  their 
leave,  Perry  declared  that  it  was  his 


230 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


intention  to  bring  the  enemy  to  close  quar 
ters  from  the  first,  and  that  lie  could  not 
advise  them  better  than  in  the  words  of 
Lord  Xelson — "If  you  lay  your  enemy 
close  alongside,  you  can  not  be  out  of  your 
place/'  As  soon,  therefore,  as  the  ap 
proach  of  the  enemy  warranted  the  display 
of  the  signal,  every  vessel  was  under  sail, 
beating  out  against  alight  head-wind,  and 
with  the  boats  ahead  towing.  The  object 
was,  to  beat  to  the  windward  of  the 
islands  which  now  interposed  between  the 
two  approaching  squadrons,  and,  thus  gain 
ing  the  weather-gauge,  to  bear  down  with 
that  important  advantage  upon  the  foe. 
The  wind,  however,  was  light  and  baffling; 
and  Perry's  patience  was  so  severely  tried 
by  the  incessant  tacking,  that,  seeing  time 
lost,  and  but  little  progress  made,  he 
called  out  to  his  sailing-master, — 

"Taylor,  you  wear  ship  and  run  to  the 
leeward  of  the  islands." 

"Then  we'll  have  to  engage  the  enemy 
from  the  leeward,"  exclaimed  Taylor. 

"I  don't  care — to  windward  or  to  lee 
ward,  they  shall  fitjlit  to-day"  was  Perry's 
instant  response. 


He  now  formed  the  line  of  battle,  the 
wind  suddenly  shifting  to  the  south-east, 
thus  bearing  the  squadron  clear  of  the 
islands,  and  enabling  it  to  keep  the 
weather-gauge.  I>ut  the  moderateness  of 
the  breeze  caused  the  hostile  squadrons  to 
approach  each  other  but  slowly,  thus  pro 


longing  the  solemn  interval  of  suspense 
and  anxiety  which  precedes  a  battle.  The 
order  and  regularity  of  naval  discipline 
heightened  the  dreadful  quiet  of  this 
impressive  prelude.  No  noise,  no  bustle, 
prevailed  to  distract  the  mind — except,  at 
intervals,  the  shrill  pipings  of  the  boat 
swain's  whistle,  or  a  murmuring  whisper 
among  the  men,  who  stood  in  groups 
around  their  guns,  with  lighted  matches, 
narrowly  watching  the  movements  of  the 
foe,  and  sometimes  stealing  a  glance  at  the 
countenances  of  their  commanders.  In 
this  manner,  the  opposing  fleets  gradually 
n eared  each  other  in  awful  silence.  Even 
the  sick  felt  a  thrill  of  the  pervading  deep 
emotion,  and,  with  fancied  renewal  of 
strength,  offered  their  feeble  services  in 
the  coming  conflict.  To  one  of  these  poor- 
fellows,  who  had  crawled  up  on  deck,  to 
have  a  hand  in  the  fight,  the  sailing-master 
said : 

"  Go  below,  Mays,  you  are  too  weak  to 
be  here." 

"I  can  do  something,  sir,"  replied  the 
brave  old  tar. 

"  What  can  you  do  ?  " 

"  I  can  sound  the  pump,  sir,  and  let  a 
strong  man  go  to  the  guns." 

It  was  even  so.  He  sat  down  by  the 
pump,  and  sent  the  strong  man  to  the 
guns;  and  when  the  light  was  ended, 
there  he  was  found,  with  a  ball  in  his 
heart.  He  was  from  Newport ;  his  name, 
Wilson  Mays  ;  his  monument  and  epitaph, 
the  grateful  memory  of  a  whole  nation. 

As  they  were  coming  nearer  and  nearer 
the  British  fleet  (says  Dr.  Tomes,  in  his 
admirable  delineation  of  this  battle),  and 
by  twelve  o'clock  would  certainly  be  in 
the  midst  of  action,  the  noonday-grog  was 
served  in  advance,  and  the  bread-bags 
freely  emptied.  In  a  moment  after,  how 
ever,  every  man  was  again  at  quarters. 
Perry  now  went  round  the  deck,  from  gun 
to  gun,  stopping  at  each,  carefully  exam 
ining  its  condition,  and  passing  a  cheerful 
word  with  the  "captain."  Recognizing 
some  of  the  old  tars  who  had  served  on 
board  the  Constitution,  he  said,  "  Well, 
boys  !  are  you  ready  ? "  "  All  ready, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


237 


your  honor  !  "  was  the  prompt  reply,  as 
they  touched  their  tarpaulins,  or  the  hand 
kerchiefs  iu  which  some  of  them  had 
wrapped  their  heads,  that  they  might  be  as 
unencumbered  as  possible  for  the  fight. 
"  But  I  need  not  say  anything  to  you," 
rejoined  their  commander  —  "you  know 
how  to  beat  these  fellows" — and  he  passed 
on.  His  face  now  beamed  with  a  smile  of 
friendly  interest  as  he  recognized  some  of 
his  fellow-townsmen,  exclaiming,  "Ah, 
here  are  the  Newport  boys  !  T/tey  will  do 
their  duty,  I  warrant." 

At  fifteen  minutes  after  eleven,  a  bugle 
was  sounded  on  board  the  enemy's  head 
most  ship,  the  Detroit,  loud  cheers  burst 
from  all  their  crews,  and  a  tremendous  fire 
opened  upon  the  Lawrence,  from  the 
British  long-guns,  and  which,  from  the 
shortness  of  the  Lawrence's,  the  latter  was 
obliged  to  sustain  for  some  forty  minutes, 
without  being  able  to  return  a  shot. 

Losing  no  time  in  waiting  for  the  other 
ships,  Commodore  Perry  kept  on  his  course 
in  such  gallant  and  determined  style,  that 
the  enemy  supposed  he  meant  immediately 
to  board.  At  about  twelve  o'clock,  having 
gained  a  more  favorable  position,  the  Law 
rence  opened  her  fire,  but  the  long-guns  of 
the  British  still  gave  them  greatly  the 
advantage,  and  the  Lawrence  was  exceed 
ingly  cut  up,  without  being  able  to  do 
much  of  any  damage  in  return.  Their 
shot  pierced  her  side  in  all  directions,  even 
killing  the  men  in  the  berth-deck  and 
steerage,  where  they  had  been  carried  to 
be  dressed.  One  shot  had  nearly  produced 
a  fatal  explosion ;  passing  through  the 
light  room,  it  knocked  the  snuff  of  the 
candle  into  the  magazine — but  which  was 
fortunately  seen  by  the  gunner,  who  had 
the  presence  of  mind  immediately  to  seize 
and  extinguish  it.  It  appeared  to  be  the 
enemy's  plan  at  all  events  to  destroy  the 
commander's  ship;  their  heaviest  fire  was 
directed  against  the  Lawrence,  and  blazed 
incessantly  from  all  their  largest  vessels. 

Finding  the  peculiar  and  i.nminent 
hazard  of  his  situation,  Perry  made  all 
sail,  and  directed  the  other  vessels  to 
follow,  for  the  purpose  of  closing  with  the 


enemy.  The  tremendous  fire,  however, 
to  which  he  was  exposed,  soon  cut  away 
every  brace  and  bowline  of  the  Lawrence, 
and  she  became  unmanageable.  The  other 
vessels  were  unable  to  get  up;  and  in  this 
disastrous  situation,  therefore,  she  still 
continued  to  sustain  the  main  force  of  the 
enemy's  fire,  within  canister  distance, 
though,  during  a  considerable  part  of  this 
terrible  ordeal,  not  more  than  two  or  three 
of  her  guns  could  be  brought  to  bear  with 
any  material  effect  upon  her  antagonist. 

Throughout  all  this  scene  of  ghastly 
horror,  however,  the  utmost  order  and  reg 
ularity  prevailed,  without  the  least  sign  of 
trepidation  or  faintheartedness ;  as  fast  as 
the  men  at  the  guns  were  wounded,  they 
were  quietly  carried  below,  and  others 
stepped  manfully  into  their  places;  the 
dead  remained  where  they  fell,  until  after 
the  action. 

At  this  juncture,  the  enemy  believed 
the  battle  to  be  won.  The  Lawrence  was 
reduced  to  a  mere  wreck  ;  her  deck  was 
streaming  with  blood,  and  covered  with 
the  mangled  limbs  and  bodies  of  the  slain, 
nearly  the  whole  of  her  crew  were  either 
killed  or  wounded ;  her  guns,  too,  were 
dismounted, — the  commodore  and  his  offi~ 
cers  personally  working  the  last  that  was 
capable  of  service,  assisted  by  the  few 
hands  yet  remaining  capable  of  duty. 
According  to  the  account  given  by  Dr. 
Parsons,  the  surgeon  of  the  Lawrence,  the 
muscular  material  was  reduced  to  its  abso 
lute  minimum.  "When  the  battle  had 
raged  an  hour  and  a  half,"  says  Dr.  Par 
sons,  "I  heard  a  call  for  me  at  the  small 
skylight,  and,  stepping  toward  it,  I  saw  it 
was  the  commodore,  whose  countenance 
was  calm  and  placid  as  if  on  ordinary 
duty.  'Doctor,'  said  he,  'send  me  one  of 
your  men,' — meaning  one  of  the  six  that 
were  to  assist  me ;  which  was  done  in 
stantly.  In  five  minutes  the  call  was 
repeated  and  obeyed ;  and  at  the  seventh 
call,  I  told  him  he  had  them  all.  He 
asked  if  any  could  pull  a  rope,  when  two 
or  three  of  the  wounded  crawled  upon  deck 
to  lend  a  feeble  hand  in  pulling  at  the  last 
guns."  So  close  and  desperate  was  this 


238 


OUK  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


conflict;  so  brave  and  courageous 
the  hearts  of  those  who  fought  for 
the  honor  and  rights  of  America. 
It  was  two  o'clock,  and  Captain 
Elliott,  of  the  Niagara,  was 
enabled  by  the  aid  of  a  fresh 
breeze  to  bring  his  ship  into 
close  action  in  gallant  style. 
Finding,  now,  that  no  resistance 
or  hostility  on  the  part  of  the 
Lawrence  could  be  profitably  per 
sisted  in,  Perry  suddenly  formed 
the  determination  to  shift  his  flag 
to  Elliott's  ship;  and,  leaving  his 
own  vessel  in  charge  of  her 
lieutenant,  the  brave  and  gallant 
Yarnall,  he  hauled  down  his 
union-jack,  and,  taking  it  under 
his  arm,  ordered  a  boat  to  put 
him  on  board  the  Niagara,  lie 
passed  the  line  of  the  enemy, 
exposed  to  a  perfect  shower  of 
their  musketry,  still  standing  in 
the  boat, — waving  his  sword  and 
5  gallantly  cheering  his  men, —  a 
w  marked  and  pointed  object  from 
3  three  of  the  enemy's  ships,  until 
he  was  forcibly  pulled  down  by 
his  own  men.  He  arrived  safe, 
*"  and  tumultuous  huzzas  rent  the 
air  as  he  again  unfurled  and 
hoisted  aloft  his  union-jack,  with 
its  inspiring  motto,  '  Don't  give 
up  the  ship!'  gaily  kissing  the 
breeze.  On  seeing  their  noble 
commander  step  upon  the  deck  of 
the  Niagara,  the  crew  of  the 
Lawrence  —  the  few  that  yet 
remained  —  sent  up  three  lusty 
cheers.  The  question  with  which 
Elliott  first  saluted  Perry  was — 
"  How  is  the  day  going  ?  " 
"  Badly  !  "  was  the  brief  reply  ; 
"and  do  you  see  those  infernal 
gun-boats — they  have  lost  us  the 
victory !  " 

"  No  !  "  exclaimed  Elliott ;  "  do 
you  take  command  of  this  ship, 
and  I  will  bring  up  the  boats." 

Elliott  at  once  put  off,  to  bring 
up  the  schooners  which  had  been 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


239 


kept  back  by  the  lightness  of  the  wind. 
At  this  moment,  the  flag  of  the  Lawrence 
was  hauled  down.  Lieutenant  Yarnall, 
upon  whom  the  command  of  the  vessel 
devolved  after  the  commodore  left  her, 
refused  for  some  time  to  leave  the  deck, 
though  more  than  once  wounded;  and 
Lieutenant  Brooks  and  Midshipman  Saul 
were  both  killed.  As  the  surgeon  was 
stooping,  in  the  act  of  dressing  or  examin 
ing  a  wound,  a  ball  passed  through  the 
ship  a  few  inches  from  his  head,  which, 
had  it  been  erect,  must  have  been  taken 
off.  The  principal  force  of  the  enemy's  fire 
had  now  been  sustained  uninterruptedly 
by  the  Lawrence,  and,  as  she  was  rendered 
totally  incapable  of  defense,  any  further 
show  of  resistance  would  have  been  a  use 
less  sacrifice  of  the  remnant  of  her  brave 
and  mangled  crew.  The  enemy  were  at 
the  same  time  so  crippled,  that  they  were 
unable  to  take  possession  of  her,  and  cir 
cumstances  soon  enabled  her  crew  again 
to  raise  the  American  flag. 

Commodore  Perry  now  gave  the  signal 
to  all  the  vessels  for  close  action.  The 
small  vessels,  under  the  direction  of  Elli 
ott,  got  out  their  sweeps,  and  made  all 
sail.  On  an  inspection  of  the  Niagara, 
and  finding  her  but  little  injured,  Perry 
determined  upon  the  bold  and  desperate 
expedient  of  breaking  the  enemy's  line ; 
he  accordingly  bore  up  and  passed  the 
head  of  the  two  ships  and  brig,  giving 
them  a  raking  fire  from  his  starboard 
guns,  and  also  a  raking  fire  upon  a  large 
schooner  and  sloop,  from  his  larboard 
quarter,  at  half  pistol  shot. 

Having  brought  the  whole  squadron 
into  action,  Perry  luffed  up  and  laid  his 
ship  alongside  of  the  British  commodore, 
Barclay,  of  the  Lady  Prevost.  Approach 
ing  within  half  pistol  shot,  Perry's  fire 
was  so  destructive  that  the  enemy's  men 
were  compelled  to  run  below.  At  this 
moment  the  wind  freshened,  and  the  Cal 
edonia  came  up  and  opened  her  fire  upon 
the  British ;  and  several  others  of  the 
squadron  were  enabled  soon  after  to  do 
the  same, — the  small  vessels  having  now 
got  up  within  good  grape-and-canister 


distance  on  the  other  quarter,  inclosed 
their  enemy  between  them  and  the  Niag 
ara,  and  in  this  position  kept  up  a  most 
deadly  fire  on  both  quarters  of  the  British. 
For  a  time,  the  combat  raged  with  inde 
scribable  violence  and  fury.  The  result  of 
a  campaign — the  command  of  a  sea — the 
glory  and  renown  of  two  rival  nations 
matched  for  the  first  time  in  squadron, — 
these  were  the  issues  at  stake  which  in 
spirited  the  combatants.  The  contest  was 
not  long  doubtful.  The  Queen  Charlotte 
having  lost  her  captain  and  all  her  princi 
pal  officers,  by  some  mischance  ran  foul  of 
her  colleague,  the  Detroit.  By  this  acci 
dent,  the  greater  part  of  their  guns  were 
rendered  useless,  and  the  two  ships  were 
now  in  turn  compelled  to  sustain  an  inces 
sant  fire  from  the  Niagara  and  the  other 
vessels  of  the  American  squadron.  The 
flag  of  Captain  Barclay  soon  struck ;  and 
the  Queen  Charlotte,  the  Lady  Prevost, 
the  Hunter,  and  the  Chippewa,  surren 
dered  in  immediate  succession.  The 
Little  Belt  attempted  to  escape,  but  was 
pursued  by  two  gun-boats,  and  captured. 
Thus;  after  a  contest  of  three  hours,  was  a 
naval  victory  achieved  by  the  Americans, 
in  which  every  vessel  of  the  enemy  was 
captured.  If  anything  could  enhance  its 
brilliancy  it  was  the  modest  and  laconic 
manner  in  which,  Caesar-like,  it  was 
announced  by  the  gallant  victor — 

"WE  HAVE  MET  THE  EXEMY,  AND  THEY 
ARE  OURS ! " 

The  carnage  in  this  action  was  very 
great  in  proportion  to  the  numbers  en 
gaged.  The  Americans  had  twenty-seven 
killed,  and  ninety-six  wounded.  The  loss 
of  the  British  was  about  two  hundred  in 
killed  and  wounded,  many  of  these  being 
officers  ;  and  the  prisoners,  amounting  to 
six  hundred,  exceeded  the  whole  number 
of  Americans.  Commodore  Barclay,  a 
gallant  sailor,  one  of  whose  arms  had  been 
shot  off  at  the  battle  of  Trafalgar,  under 
Lord  Nelson,  was  severely  wounded  in  the 
hip,  and  lost  the  use  of  his  remaining  arm. 
Perry  was  but  twenty-seven  years  old,  and 
had  scarcely  recovered  from  an  attack  of 
the  lake-fever,  when  he  thus  'met  the 


210 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


enemy,' — a  circumstance  that  heightens 
the  estimate  to  be  put  upon  his  indomita 
ble  perseverance  and  bravery  on  this  occa 
sion.  To  his  adroit  transfer  of  his  com 
mand  to  the  Niagara,  passing  through  the 
thickest  of  the  battle  in  an  open  boat,  may 
fairly  be  attributed  his  brilliant  fortune 
on  that  eventful  day.  His  success  raised 
him  to  the  very  pinnacle  of  professional 
renown,  and  the  naval  supremacy  of  the 
United  States  upon  the  lakes  was  tri 
umphantly  secured. 

This  important  and  decisive  battle  was 
fought  midway  of  the  lake,  between  the 
two  hostile  armies,  who  lay  on  the  oppo 
site  shores,  waiting  in  anxious  expectation 
of  its  result, — the  allied  British  and  Indian 
forces,  to  the  amount  of  nearly  five  thou 
sand,  under  Proctor  and  Tecumseh,  being 
ready,  in  case  of  a  successful  issue,  to 
renew  their  ravages  on  the  American 
borders.  The  fruits  of  this  victory,  there 
fore,  were  such  as  to  cause  unbounded 
demonstrations  of  joy  in  the  United  States. 
All  party-feelings  were  for  the  time  for 
gotten  ;  and  the  glorious  occurrence  was 
celebrated  by  illuminations  and  festivities, 
from  one  end  of  the  continent  to  the  other. 
During  this  same  year,  our  gallant  navy 
was  victorious  in  the  capture  of  the  sloop- 
of-war  Peacock,  by  Captain  James  Law 
rence  ;  and  in  the  capture  of  the  brig 
Boxer,  by  the  Enterprise,  commanded  by 
Lieutenant  Barrows.  The  British,  how 
ever,  on  the  first  of  June,  rejoiced  in  the 
capture  of  the  Chesapeake  by  the  frigate 
Shannon,  otf  Boston  harbor,  and,  on  the 
fourteenth  of  August,  in  the  capture  of  the 
Argus,  Captain  Allen,  by  the  Pelican. 
The  British  were  also  victorious  on  land, 
at  the  battles  of  Mackinaw,  Queenstown, 
Frenchtown,  and  some  other  points  ;  but 
lost  the  battles  of  York,  Fort  Meigs,  and 
the  Thames.  The  proposed  invasion  of 
Canada,  under  the  direction  of  Generals 
Dearborn,  Wilkinson,  Hampton,  Lewis, 
and  Izard,  proved  a  failure.  Such  a  vic 
tory,  therefore,  as  that  of  Perry,  was  well 
calculated  to  fill  the  nation  with  joy. 

The  struggle  being  ended,  and  Perry 
acquainting  himself  with  the  condition 


and  wants  of  the  several  vessels  and  their 
crews,  at  last  visited  the  shattered  remains 
of  the  Lawrence.  The  deck  was  slip 
pery  with  blood  and  brains,  and  strewed 
with  the  bodies  of  officers  and  men,  and 
the  ship  resounded  everywhere  with  the 
groans  of  the  wounded.  Those  of  the 
crew  who  were  spared  and  able  to  walk  or 
limp,  approached  the  gallant  captain  with 
tears  in  their  eyes,  and  with  outstretched 
arms  of  welcome ;  but  the  salutation  was 
a  silent  one  on  both  sides, — so  overcome 
with  emotion  were  the  hearts  of  these 
brave  men,  that  not  a  word  could  iind 
utterance.  The  principal  loss  in  the 
whole  action  was  on  board  the  Lawrence, 
so  indomitable  was  Perry's  resolution  not 
to  be  conquered.  In  memory  of  this  he 
roic  service  to  his  country,  there  was 
erected  in  1860,  at  Cleveland,  Ohio,  near 
the  scene  of  his  great  battle,  a  marble 
statue  by  Walcutt. 

Two  days  after  the  battle,  two  Indian 
chiefs  who  had  been  selected  for  their 
skill  as  marksmen,  and  stationed  in  the 
tops  of  the  Detroit  for  the  purpose  of  pick 
ing  off  the  American  officers,  were  found 
snugly  stowed  away  in  the  hold  of  that 
ship.  These  savages,  who  had  been  ac 
customed  to  vessels  of  no  greater  magni 
tude  than  what  they  could  sling  upon  their 
backs,  when  the  action  became  warm, 
were  so  panic-struck  at  the  terrors  of  the 
scene  and  at  the  strange  perils  surround 
ing  them,  that,  looking  at  each  other  in 
amazement,  they  vociferated  their  signifi 
cant  'Quonth!'  and  precipitately  de 
scended  to  the  hold.  In  their  British 
uniforms,  hanging  in  bags  upon  their  fam 
ished  bodies,  they  were  now  brought  be 
fore  Commodore  Perry,  fed,  and  discharged, 
— no  further  parole  being  necessary  to 
prevent  their  ever  engaging  again  in  a 
similar  contest. 

The  slain  of  the  crews  of  both  squadrons 
were  committed  to  the  lake  immediately 
after  the  action  ;  and,  the  next  day,  the 
funeral  obsequies  of  the  American  and 
British  officers  who  had  fallen,  were  per 
formed  at  an  opening  on  the  margin  of 
the  bay,  in  an  appropriate  and  affecting 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


241 


manner.  The  crews  of  both  fleets  united 
in  the  ceremony.  The  autumnal  stillness 
of  the  weather — the  procession  of  boats — 
the  music — the  slow  and  regular  motion 
of  the  oars,  striking  in  exact  time  with  the 
notes  of  the  solemn  dirge — the  mournful 
waving  of  the  flags — the  sound  of  the 
minute-guns  from  all  the  ships — the  wild 
and  solitary  aspect  of  the  place  ; — all  these 
gave  to  this  funeral  ceremonial  a  most 
impressive  influence,  in  striking  contrast 
with  the  terrible  conflict  of  the  preceding 
day.  Two  American  and  three  British 
officers  were  interred  side  by  side  of  each 
other,  in  this  lonely  place  of  sepulture,  on 
the  margin  of  the  lake,  a  few  paces  from 
the  beach. 

In  his  official  dispatch,  Perry  speaks  in 
the  highest  terms  of  the  co-operation, 
bravery  and  judgment,  of  his  associate, 
Captain  Elliott.  Nevertheless,  there  is 
universal  agreement  with  the  assertion 
made  by  Mackenzie,  the  appreciating  biog 
rapher  of  this  heroic  commander,  that  the 
battle  of  Erie  was  won  not  merely  by  the 
genius  and  inspiration,  but  eminently  by 
the  exertions,  of  one  man, — a  young  man 
of  twenty-seven,  who  had  never  beheld  a 
naval  engagement.  He  had  dashed  boldly 
into  action  with  the  Lawrence,  trusting 
that  the  rear  of  his  line  would  soon  be 
able  to  close  up  to  his  support.  Sustained, 
however,  only  by  the  Caledonia,  the  Ariel, 
and  the  Scorpion,  lie  resisted  for  two  hours 
or  more  the  whole  of  the  British  squadron. 
Overcome  at  last,  Perry  made  a  new  ar 
rangement  of  his  remaining  resources,  and 
snatched  from  the  enemy,  with  desperate 


obstinacy,  a  victcry  which  that  enemy  had 
already  claimed  with  exulting  cheers  for 
his  own.  This  he  accomplished  by  an 
evolution  unsurpassed  for  genius  and  hard 
ihood,  bearing  down  with  dauntless  assur 
ance  upon  the  whole  of  the  opposing  fleet, 
and  dashing  with  his  fresh  and  uninjured 
vessel  through  the  enemy's  line,  to  their 
dismay  and  complete  discomfiture.  And 


this  victory  on  the  lake  was  so  much  the 
more  important  from  its  enabling  General 
Harrison  to  recover  from  the  British  in 
vaders  the  American  territory  which  they 
had  occupied,  and  to  pursue  them  into 
Canada,  where,  on  the  fifth  of  October, 
they  were  totally  routed  in  the  battle  of 
the  Thames.  Nearly  all  the  British  force 
was  either  captured  or  slain,  and  their 
famous  Indian  ally,  Tecumseh,  here  ended 
his  life. 


16 


XXV. 

CONQUEST    AND    BURNING  OF   WASHINGTON,    BY    THE 

BRITISH.— 1814. 


Precipitate  Flight  of  tlie  President  of  the  United  States,  and  His  Cabinet — The  Capitals  of  Europe 
Protected  from  Fire  and  Devastation  hy  Their  Conquerors — Contrast  ot"  British  Warfare  in  Amerira. 
— The  Capitol,  Presidential  Mansion,  etc  ,  Sacked  and  Fired. — National  Indignation  Aroused  by  These 
Barbarities. — Veterans  from  Europe's  Battle-Fields  Execute  these  Deeds. — Orders  to  "  Lay  Waste" 
the  American  Coast. — Operations  at  the  South — Washington  the  Prize  in  View — Inefficiency  of  its 
Defense. — Winder  and  Barney  in  Command. — The  Idi-a  of  an  Attack  Scouted. — Onward  March  of 
the  Invaders. — Fearful  Excitement  in  the  City. — Hii>h  Officials  in  Camp — The  Armies  at  Bladens- 
burg — Winder  Defeated,  Barney  Taken  — Hoss's  Progress  Unopposed  — Complete  Master  of  the 
^--—-^r^^fij&^tg&^fc^-  City. — A  Rush  for  the  Spoils. — British  Soldiers  in  the  White 

.,-.      '•'  Hlnl&^il^        House. — They     Eat    the    President's    Dinner  —  Cockburn's 

f  Bold   Infamy. — Retreat   of  the   Vandal    Foe. — Their   March 
E-r  Upon  Baltimore  — Hoss  Shot  Dead  in  the  Fight. 


'  I  will  make  a  ccw-paiture  of  these  Yankee  Capital  grounds."—  GKNEBAL  Ross. 


A  CLOUD  OX  THE  NATIONAL 
ESCUTCHEON. 


'ARDLY  any  event  connected  with  the  second  war  with 
Great  Britain  aroused  so  universal  a  spirit  of  indignation 
on  the  part  of  the  people  of  the  United  States — so  united 
a  sentiment  of  hostility  —  against  their  ancient  enemy,  as 
the  capture  and  burning  of  Washington  city,  the  federal 
capital,  August  twenty -fourth,  1814. 
The  commencement  of  this  year  was  distinguished  by  military  and  political  occur 
rences  of  transcendent  importance,  such  as  the  entry  of  the  allied  armies  into  Paris, 
the  forced  abdication  of  Napoleon,  his  exile  to  Elba,  and  the  establishment  of  general 
peace  on  the  continent.  But  these  momentous  transactions,  which  filled  the  European 
world  with  almost  boundless  exultation,  produced  in  America  a  very  different  impres 
sion.  The  fact  of  pacification  having  been,  at  last,  definitely  accomplished  throughout 
Europe,  offered  to  the  British  a  large  disposable  force,  both  naval  and  military, — that 
which  had  been  so  successfully  instrumental  in  overthrowing  the  greatest  power  and 
most  masterly  warrior  in  the  world.  With  this  force,  England  resolved  on  giving  to 
the  war  in  America  a  character  of  new  and  increased  activity  and  extent ;  and  the 
royal  authorities  accordingly  promulgated  it  as  their  determined  purpose  to  lay  waste 
the  whole  American  coast,  from  Maine  to  Georgia. 

In  pursuance  of  this  sanguinary  piogramme  of  operations,  Admiral  Sir  Alexander 
Cockburn  was  intrusted  with  the  British  naval  armament,  and  the  army  was  put  in 
command  of  Major-General  Ross,  a  brave  leader  in  the  Peninsula  wars,  under  Welling 
ton,  the  conqueror  of  Napoleon. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


About  the  middle  of  August,  an  English 
squadron  of  between  fifty  and  sixty  sail 
arrived  in  the  Chesapeake,  with  troops 
destined  to  strike  the  first  decisive  blow, 
namely,  an  attack  on  Washington,  the 
metropolis  of  the  United  States.  Of  the 
American  forces,  General  Winder,  as  the 
successor  of  General  Van  Ness,  aided  by 
General  Walter  Brown  and  John  E.  How 
ard,  was  in  command  of  the  army,  and 
Commodore  Barney  of  the  flotilla.  The 
enemy  divided  his  force  into  three  parts. 
One  division  was  sent  up  the  Potomac, 
under  Captain  Gordon,  for  the  purpose  of 
bombarding  Fort  Warburton,  and  opening 
the  way  to  the  city  of  Washington;  and 
another,  under  Sir  Peter  Parker,  was 
dispatched  to  threaten  Baltimore. 

The  main  body  ascended  the  Patuxent, 
apparently  with  the  intention  of  destroy 
ing  Commodore  Barney's  flotilla,  which 
had  taken  refuge  at  the  head  of  that  river, 
but  with  the  real  intention,  as  it  was  soon 
discovered,  of  attacking  Washington.  In 
the  prosecution  of  this  plan,  the  expedition 
proceeded  to  Benedict,  the  head  of  frigate 
navigation.  This  place,  on  the  west  bank 
of  the  Patuxent,  was  reached  on  the  nine 
teenth  of  August ;  and,  on  the  next  day, 
the  debarkation  of  the  land  forces  under 
General  Ross,  to  the  number  of  six  thou 
sand,  was  completed.  On  the  twenty-first, 
pursuing  the  course  of  the  river,  the  troops 
moved  to  Nottingham,  and  on  the  twenty- 
second  arrived  at  Upper  Marlborough ;  a 
flotilla,  consisting  of  launches  and  barges, 
under  Cockburn'g  command,  ascending  the 
river  and  keeping  pace  with  them.  The 
day  following,  the  flotilla  of  Commodore 
Barney,  in  obedience  to  orders  to  that 
effect,  was  blown  up  by  men  left  for  that 
purpose,  the  commodore  having  already 
joined  General  Winder  with  his  seamen 
and  marines. 

At  this  time,  when  the  invading  army 
was  within  twenty  miles  of  the  capital, 
Winder  was  at  the  head  of  only  three 
thousand  men,  one-half  of  whom  were  mili 
tia  entirely  untried.  The  Baltimore  mili 
tia,  those  from  Annapolis,  and  the  Vir 
ginia  detachment,  had  not  yet  arrived. 


His  camp  was  at  the  Woody ard,  twelve 
miles  from  Washington.  It  was  still 
doubtful  whether  the  British  intended  an 
attack  upon  Fort  Warburton,  which  could 
offer  but  little  resistance  to  their  land 
forces,  although  it  could  be  formidable  to 
their  ships,  or  intended  to  march  directly 
on  Washington.  The  secretary  of  war, 
General  Armstrong,  himself  an  old  soldier, 
scouted  the  idea  of  an  attack  on  the  capi 
tal,  saying,  energetically — 

'•  Have  they  artillery  ?  No.  Have  they 
cavalry  ?  No.  Then  don't  tell  an  old  sol 
dier  that  an}'  regular  army  will  or  can  come. 
We  are  more  frightened  than  hurt,  or 
likely  to  be.  What  do  they  want,  what 
can  the}'  get,  in  this  sheep-walk?  (as  he 
ironically  termed  the  'city  of  magnificent 
distances.')  If  they  want  to  do  anything, 
they  must  go  to  Baltimore,  not  come  to 
this  barren  wilderness  !  " 

But  the  secretary's  military  judgment 
was  found  to  be  at  fault,  as  events  soon 
showed.       Alarmed    at    the    threatening- 
aspect  of  affairs,  President  Madison  con 
vened  a  special  cabinet-council,  to  devise 
measures   for  meeting   the  extraordinary 
emergency.     The    District   of    Columbia, 
with  parts  of  the  adjacent  states,  was  con 
stituted  a  distinct    military   department, 
and  a    proclamation   was    issued  for  the 
assembling  of  congress   at  a  speedy   day. 
But,  in  anticipation  of  such  movements  as 
these,  the  British  army  again  set  out,  on 
the  afternoon  of  the  twenty-second,  and, 
after    skirmishing    with    the    Americans, 
halted    for   the    night.      General   Winder 
now  retreated  to  a  place  called  the  Old 
Fields,    which   covered   Bladensburg,   the 
bridges  on  the  east  branch  of  the  Potomac, 
and   Fort   Warburton.      Colonel   Monroe, 
the  secretary  of  state,   and  subsequently 
president  of  the  United  States,  had  been 
with  the  commanding  general  for  several 
days,  assisting  him  with  his  counsel,  and 
actively   engaged   in    reconnoitering    the 
enemy.      Late    in    the    evening    of    the 
twenty-second,    President    Madison,    the 
secretaries  of  war  and  navy,  and  the  attor 
ney-general,  joined  General  Winder;  here 
they  slept  that  night,  and  remained  on  the 


244 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


ground  until  the  evening  of  the  twenty- 
third,  when,  in  view  of  the  possibility  of 
an  immediate  attack,  it  was  concluded  to 
abandon  that  position,  and  retire  to  the 
eastern  branch  bridge. 

On  the  morning  of  the  twenty-third, 
General  Winder's  army  had  been  duly 
mustered  and  reviewed  by  the  president. 
It  then  consisted  of  four  hundred  horse, 
under  the  command  of  Colonel  Tilghman  ; 
four  hundred  regular  troops,  under  Colonel 
Scott;  six  hundred  marines  and  flotilla 
men,  under  Commodore  Barney  ;  and  Cap 
tain  Miller,  with  five  pieces  of  heavy 
ordnance,  and  eighteen  hundred  militia  ; 
— forming  an  aggregate  of  three  thousand 
two  hundred  men,  with  seventeen  pieces 
of  artillery.  The  general  staff  consisted 
of  the  president  of  the  United  States,  as 
Commander-in-chief,  the  secretaries  of 
state,  war,  and  navy,  the  attorney-general, 


and  General  Winder.  At  Bladensburg, 
General  Stanslmry  had  arrived  from  Bal 
timore,  with  his  brigade  of  drafted  militia; 
also,  the  fifth  regiment,  consisting  of  the 
elite  of  the  Baltimore  city  brigade,  under 
Colonel  Sterrett,  a  battalion  of  riflemen 
under  Major  Pinckney,  and  Myers's  and 
Magruder's  companies  of  artillery,  with 
six  field-pieces. 

The  invading  army  at  Upper  Marlbor- 
ough,  on  the  twenty-third,  did  not  exceed 
four  thousand  five  hundred  effective  men, 
without  cavalry,  wagons,  or  means  of 
transportation,  and  with  but  three  pieces 
of  light  artillery,  drawn  by  men.  The 
force  remained  at  Upper  Marlborough 


until  the  afternoon  of  the  twenty-third, 
when  they  commenced  their  inarch  towards 
Washington,  by  the  way  of  Bladens 
burg.  Colonel  Scott  and  Major  Peter, 
with  light  detachments,  were  sent  out  to 
meet  and  harass  the  enemy,  and  General 
Stansbury  was  ordered  to  proceed  with  the 
troops  under  his  command,  on  the  route 
direct  to  Upper  Marlborough.  Colonel 
Scott,  with  his  detachment,  met  the  Brit 
ish  about  six  miles  in  advance  of  the  main 
body,  and,  after  some  skirmishing, 
retreated.  The  American  army  at  Old 
Fields,  were  placed  in  a  favorable  attitude 
of  defense;  they  remained  in  their  position 
until  evening,  when,  apprehending  the 
approach  of  the  enemy,  they  were  ordered 
to  march  to  Washington.  The  British 
encamped  that  evening  three  miles  in 
front  of  the  position  which  the  American 
troops  had  left.  The  retreat  of  the  latter 
towards  the  city  was  precipitate  and  dis 
orderly,  the  enemy  being  supposed  to  be 
in  close  pursuit. 

General  Winder,  on  the  morning  of  the 
twenty-fourth,  had  established  his  head 
quarters,  with  the  main  body,  at  the  east 
ern  branch  bridge.  His  force  here  amounted 
to  three  thousand  five  hundred  men  ;  Gen 
eral  Stansbury  was  four  miles  in  front  at 
Bladensburg,  with  twenty-five  hundred; 
Colonel  Minor,  with  seven  hundred  in 
the  city  of  Washington, — endeavoring  to 
get  across  to  the  arsenal ;  and  General 
Young's  brigade  of  five  hundred,  twelve 
miles  below,  on  the  left  bank  of  the 
Potomac. 

Various  reports  were  brought  to  head 
quarters,  of  the  movements  and  intentions 
of  the  British.  The  president  and  heads 
of  departments  assembled  at  General 
Winder's  in  the  morning.  The  secretary 
of  state,  upon  hearing  a  rumor  that  the 
British  were  marching  upon  the  capital  by 
the  way  of  Bladensburg,  proceeded  to  join 
General  Stansbury,  to  aid  him  in  forming 
a  line  of  battle.  That  commander,  on  the 
approach  of  the  enemy,  retired  from  his 
position  in  advance  of  Bladensburg,  and 
occupied  the  ground  west  of  the  village,  on 
the  right  bank  of  the  eastern  branch. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


245 


Here  it  was  at  last  resolved  to  meet  the 
enemy,  and  ji<jht  the  battle  that  was  to 
decide  th.e  fate  of  the  metropolis. 

The  best  arrangements  that  time  would 
permit  were  made.  About  five  hundred 
yards  from  the  bridg?,  the  artillery  from 
Baltimore,  consisting  of  six  six-pounders, 
under  the  command  of  Captains  Myers  and 
Magrtider,  were  posted  behind  a  kind  of 
breastwork;  and  Major  Pinckney's  rifle 
men  were  placed  in  ambush  to  the  right  and 
left,  so  as  to  annoy  the  enemy  when 
attempting  to  cross  the  stream,  and  at  the 
same  time,  in  conjunction  with  Captain 
Doughty's  company,  to  support  the  artil 
lery.  The  fifth  Baltimore  regiment  was 
drawn  up  about  fifty  }-ards  in  the  rear, 
but  afterwards  removed  much  further. 
The  other  parts  of  the  brigade  were  also 
so  disposed  as  to  support  the  artillery,  and 
annoy  the  enemy  in  his  approach.  Shortly 
after  this  disposition  was  made,  Lieuten 
ant-Colonel  Beall  arrived  with  about  five 
hundred  men  from  Annapolis,  and  was 
posted  higher  up  in  a  wood  on  the  right  of 
the  road.  General  Winder  having,  by 
this  time,  brought  up  his  main  body,  had 
formed  it  in  the  rear  of  Stansbury's  brig 
ade,  and  in  a  line  with  Beall's  detachment, 
and  the  heavy  artillery  under  Commodore 
Barney  posted  to  the  right  on  an  eminence 
near  the  road.  This  line  had  scarcely 
been  formed,  when  the  engagement  com 
menced.  This  was  about  twelve  o'clock,  the 
movement  being  as  follows: 

On  the  hill  which  overhangs  the  stream, 
a  column  of  the  British  made  its  appear 
ance,  and  moved  down  towards  the  bridge, 
throwing  rockets,  and  apparently  deter 
mined  to  force  the  passage.  He  now  made 
an  attempt  to  throw  a  strong  body  of 
infantry  across  the  stream,  but  a  few  well- 
directed  shot  from  the  artillery  compelled 
him  to  shelter  himself  behind  some  houses. 
After  a  considerable  pause,  a  large  column 
of  the  British  rapidly  advanced  in  the  face 
of  the  battery,  which,  although  managed 
by  skillful  and  courageous  officers,  was  un 
able  to  repress  them  ;  and  the}'  continued 
to  push  forward,  until  they  formed  a  con 
siderable  body  on  the  Washington  road. 


These  troops  had  not  advanced  far, 
when  the  company  under  Captain  Doughty, 
having  discharged  their  pieces,  fled,  in 
spite  of  the  efforts  of  their  commander  and 
of  Major  Pinckney  to  rally  them.  Had 
they  known  their  power,  however,  they 
would  have  stood  their  ground ;  for  it  is 
stated,  on  the  best  historical  authority, 
that  when  General  Ross,  leading  on  his 
troops,  reconnoitered  the  militia  stationed 
on  the  rising  ground,  he  was  alarmed  at 
their  formidable  appearance.  But  he  had 
gone  too  far  to  retreat ;  the  order  was 
given  to  move  forward.  His  alarm  was  of 
short  continuance.  A  few  congreve  rock 
ets  put  the  Maryland  militia  to  flight ;  the 
riflemen  followed;  the  artillery,  after  firing 
not  more  than  twice,  rapidly  retreated ; 
then  the  Baltimore  regiment,  on  which 
some  hopes  were  placed,  fled  also. 

The  British  now  moved  on  slowly,  until 
they  were  checked  by  the  marines  under 
Barney.  Finding  it  impossible  to  force 
the  position  of  the  marines  and  sailors  in 
front,  detachments  filed  by  the  right  and 
left  and  passed  up  ravines.  At  the  head 
of  one  was  stationed  the  Annapolis  regi 
ment,  which,  as  has  already  been  men 
tioned,  fled  at  the  first  fire.  At  the  head 
of  the  other  ravine  were  placed  some  reg 
ulars  and  militia ;  they  also  showed  their 
instinct  of  self-preservation,  by  getting 
out  of  harm's  way  as  soon  as  possible. 
The  sailors  and  marines,  thus  deserted, 
and  in  danger  of  being  surrounded,  retired, 
their  guns  and  wounded  companions 
falling  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy. 
Owing  to  the  vigorous  fire  of  the  marines, 
the  British  lost  a  large  number  of  men, — 
nearly  a  thousand,  in  killed,  wounded,  and 
missing;  the  loss  of  the  Americans  was  a 
little  rising  of  two  hundred.  At  the  time 
Commodore  Barney  ordered  a  retreat,  the 
British  were  in  his  rear,  and  he  was  made 
prisoner.  As  he  lay  wounded  by  the  side 
of  the  fence,  he  beckoned  to  a  British 
soldier,  and  directed  him  to  call  an  offi 
cer.  General  Ross  himself  immediately 
rode  up,  and,  on  being  informed  of  Bar 
ney's  rank  and  situation,  caused  him  to  be 
treated  with  that  gallantry  which  his  char- 


246 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


acter  merited,  ordered  his  wounds  to  l»e 
dressed,  and  paroled  him.  Barney  offered 
his  watch,  as  a  gift  to  the  soldier  who  had 
so  obligingly  served  him,  but  the  English 
man  replied — 

"  /  can  help  a  brave  man  without  pay-" 
Much  has  been  said,  by  critics  and  his 
torians,  concerning  the  course  pursued  by 
the  chief  magistrate  of  the  nation,  during 


PRE8IUKAM   MADISON. 

these  occurrences  around  a:id  within  the 
metropolis.  Before  the  American  troops 
broke  (sa}'s  Ingersoll),  while  showers  of 
rockets  were  flying  where  the  president 
stood,  lie  was  requested  by  General 
Winder  to  retire  out  of  their  reach,  and 
with  his  cabinet  he  withdrew  by  inglori 
ous  but  not  ignominious  retreat;  although 
everything  demonstrated  that  a  field  of 
battle  was  not  Madison's  theater  of  action. 
Wilkinson's  account  imputes  to  General 
Armstrong,  secretary  of  war,  the  assertion 
that  the  'little  man' — meaning  Mr.  Mad 
ison — said  to  the  veteran  whom  he  would 
not  allow  to  fight,  "Come,  General  Arm 
strong,  come,  Colonel  Monroe,  let  us  go, 
and  leave  it  to  the  commanding  general ;'' 
words  which  may  well  have  been  used, 
without  involving  any  imputation  of  cow 
ardice  against  the  utterer.  It  is  extremely 
uncommon  for  conspicuous  men,  sur 
rounded  as  the  president  was,  to  betray 
apprehension,  even  if  they  feel  it.  Arm 
strong,  when  the  troops  fled,  gave  vent  to 
his  mortification  in  strong  terms,  addressed 
to  the  president,  of  disgust  at  so  base  and 
cowardly  a  flight,  and  no  doubt  the  presi 


dent,  amazed  and  confounded  by  the  trep 
idation  of  the  troops,  retired,  as  Colonel 
Monroe  his  secretary  of  state  did,  dis 
heartened  ;  General  Armstrong  indignant ; 
and  Mr.  Rush,  the  youngest  and  only 
hoping  one  of  the  administration,  ashamed  ; 
soon  followed  by  General  Winder,  demor 
alized  by  the  whole  of  the  front  line  van 
ishing  in  wild  disorder  from  the  conflict. 
During  the  day,  Mr.  Madison  frequently 
dispatched  notes,  penciled  on  horseback, 
to  his  wife,  to  keep  her  informed  of  its 
vicissitudes.  More  than  Winder  feared 
and  Armstrong  predicted  of  inexperienced 
troops  was  realized  in  the  twinkling  of  an 
eye.  The  victory  was  won,  fully  and  com 
pletely,  by  the  British  ;  and  it  required 
only  to  realize  in  fact,  what  was  now  being 
carried  out  in  spirit,  the  threat  of  the 
commanding  invader,  "  /  will  make  a  con- 
pasture  of  these  Yankee  capital  grounds  !  " 
Among  those  who  exhibited  conspicuous 
braver}',  as  participants  in  these  scenes, 
were  Hugh  McCulloch  and  John  T.  Ken 
nedy,  so  prominent  in  national  affairs  in 
after  years. 

By  the  issue  of  this  battle,  General  Ross 
obtained  possession  of  the  bridge  over  the 
eastern  branch  of  the  Potomac.  After 
halting  his  army  for  a  short  time  for 
refreshment,  he,  with  Admiral  Cockburn, 
rode  slowly  into  the  wilderness  city,  almost 
every  male  inhabitant  of  which  was  then 
absent,  either  in  arms,  or  in  distant  hiding- 
places, — some  keeping  close  in  their  dwell 
ings.  Many  passed  the  night  in  huts  and 
cornfields  around  the  town.  The  first 
considerable  dwelling  the  enemy  was  to 
pass  had  been  Mr.  Gallatin's  residence, 
the  house  of  Mr.  Sewall,  some  hundred 
yards  east  of  the  capitol.  From  behind 
the  side  wall  of  that  house,  as  is  supposed, 
at  all  events  from  or  near  to  it,  a  solitary 
musket,  fired  by  some  excited  and  perhaps 
intoxicated  person,  believed  to  be  a  well- 
known  Irish  barber,  aimed  at  General 
Ross,  killed  the  bay  mare  he  rode.  In 
Ross's  official  report,  no  mention  is  made 
of  this  affair;  but  his  naval  companion, 
Admiral  Cockburn,  not  only  introduces  it 
in  his  account,  but  exaggerates  and  falsi- 


GKEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


247 


fies  the  incident  into  what  he  character 
izes  as  u  many  similar  acts  of  universal 
wanton  enormity  ; "  absurdly  calling  it  a 
heavy  fire  from  the  capitol,  which  was 
more  than  twice  gun-shot  distant !  The 
house  from  which  this  shot  came  was  at 
once  burned  by  the  soldiery,  and  all  its 
inmates  slain.  Other  houses  also  shared 
the  same  fate,  one  of  these  being  General 
Washington's  house,  the  unprovoked  de 
struction  of  which  General  Ross  much 
regretted,  on  being  informed  of  its  owner 
ship. 

Having  arrived  on  capitol  hill,  General 
Ross  offered  terms  of  capitulation,  which 
were,  that  the  city  might  be  ransomed 
for  a  sum  of  money  nearly  equal  to  the 
value  of  the  public  and  private  property 
it  contained,  and  that,  on  receiving  it,  the 
troops  should  retire  to  their  ships  unmo 
lested.  But  there  being,  at  the  time, 
neither  civil  nor  military  authorities  at 
Washington,  \>y  whom  the  propositions 
could  be  received,  the  work  of  vandalism 
commenced, — Cockburn  being  the  soul  of 
these  outrages.  It  became,  at  last,  a  per 
fect  Cossack  rush  for  spoils. 


To  the  third  brigade,  that  which  was 
least  fatigued  by  fighting,  was  assigned 
the  task  of  destroying.  According  to  the 
English  narrator,  who  was  also  the  perpe 
trator  of  these  proceedings,  it  was  a  '  sub 
lime  '  scene.  The  sun  set,  says  this  jocund 
barbarian,  before  the  different  regiments 
were  in  a  condition  to  move  in  the  dark. 
Before  they  quitted  their  ground,  the 
work  of  destruction  had  begun  in  the  city. 
The  blazing  of  houses,  ships  and  stores, 
the  reports  of  exploding  magazines,  and 
the  crash  of  falling  roofs,  informed  them, 
as  they  proceeded,  of  what  was  going  for 
ward.  Nothing  (says  a  British  writer) 
can  be  conceived  finer  than  the  sight 
which  met  them  as  they  drew  near  the 
town  :  The  sky  was  brilliantly  illuminated 
by  the  different  conflagrations ;  and  a 
dark,  red  light  was  thrown  upon  the  road, 
sufficient  to  permit  each  man  to  view  dis 
tinctly  his  comrade's  face.  The  scene  was 
striking  and  sublime,  as  the  burning  of 
St.  Sebastian's.  The  first  and  second 
brigades  advanced  into  the  plain,  halted, 
and  in  close  column  bivouacked  for  the 
night.  Towards  morning,  a  violent  storm 


CAPTURE  AND  BURNING  OF  WASHINGTON  BY   THE   BRITISH,   IN    1814. 


248 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


of  rain,  accompanied  with  thunder  and 
lightning,  came  on. — whose  flashes  seemed 
to  vie  in  brilliancy  with  the  flames  which 
burst  from  the  roofs  of  burning  houses, 
while  the  thunder  drowned  the  noise  of 
crumbling  walls,  and  was  only  interrupted 
by  the  occasional  roar  of  cannon,  and  of 
large  depots  of  gun-powder,  as  they  ex 
ploded  one  by  one. 

The  description  thus  coldly  penned  by 
one  of  the  actors  in  this  barbarous  drama, 
only  falls  short  of  the  terrible  truth.  In 
the  American  metropolis,  then  in  the  fif 
teenth  j'ear,  only,  of  its  existence,  the 
British  found  about  nine  hundred  houses, 
scattered  in  groups  over  a  surface  of  three 
miles;  and  two  splendid  buildings,  namely, 
the  capitol,  as  yet  unfinished,  and  the 
president's  house,  these  being  among  the 
finest  specimens  of  architecture  in  the 
new  world.  But,  beautiful  though  they 
were,  the  torch  of  the  incendiary  soon,  laid 
them  in  ruins.  The  great  bridge  across 
the  Potomac  was  also  wantonly  burnt. 
The  blaze  produced  by  these  wholesale 
acts  of  destruction  was  seen  even  in  Balti 
more,  forty  miles  distant.  All  that  was 
combustible  about  the  capitol  and  the  pres 
idential  mansion,  including  therein  all  the 
furniture  and  articles  of  taste  or  value,  and 
the  valuable  libraries  of  the  senate  and 
house  of  representatives,  was  reduced  to 
ashes;  and  the  walls  of  these  stately 
buildings,  blackened  with  smoke  and  in 
melancholy  demolition,  remained,  for  a 
time,  the  monuments  of  British  barbarity. 
Gales  and  Seaton's  valuable  printing 
establishment  was  also  destroyed.  All 
the  public  buildings,  with  the  exception  of 
the  patent-office,  shared  the  same  fate  at 
the  hands  of  the  enemy,  who  also  took 
particular  pains  to  mutilate  the  beautiful 
monument  erected  in  honor  of  the  naval 
heroes  who  fell  at  Tripoli. 

It  is  related,  that  when  the  detachment 
sent  out  to  destroy  the  president's  house 
entered  his  (lining-parlor,  they  found  a 
dinner-table  spread,  and  covers  laid  for 
forty  guests.  Several  kinds  of  wine,  in 
handsome  cut-glass  decanters,  were  cooling 
ou  the  side-board ;  dishes  and  plates, 


knives,  forks,  and  spoons,  were  arranged 
for  immediate  use.  In  short,  everything 
was  ready  for  the  entertainment  of  a  cere 
monious  party.  Such  were  the  arrange 
ments  in  the  dining  room,  while  in  the 
kitchen  were  others  answerable  to  them  in 
every  respect.  Spits,  loaded  with  savory 
joints,  turned  before  the  fire;  pots,  sauce 
pans,  and  other  culinary  \itensils,  stood 
near  by ;  and  all  the  other  requisites  for 
an  elegant  and  substantial  repast  were 
exactly  in  a  state  which  indicated  that 
they  had  lately  and  precipitately  been 
abandoned.  Theee  preparations  were  be 
held  by  apart}'  of  hungry  British  soldiers, 
with  no  indifferent  eye.  An  elegant  din 
ner,  even  though  considerably  over-dressed, 
was  a  luxury  to  which  few  of  them,  at  least 
for  some  time  back,  had  been  accustomed, 
and  which,  after  the  dangers  and  fatigues 
of  the  day,  appeared  peculiarly  inviting. 
They  sat  down  to  it,  therefore,  not  indeed 
in  the  most  orderly  manner,  but  with 
countenances  which  would  scarcely  have 
belied  a  party  of  aldermen  at  a  civic  feast ; 
and,  having  satisfied  their  appetites  with 
fewer  complaints  than  would  have  proba 
bly  escaped  their  rival  gourmands  afore 
said,  and  partaken  pretty  freely  of  the 
presidential  wines,  they  finished  with  the 
incendiary's  torch,  and  with  such  a  carni 
val  of  violence  and  plunder  as  would  dis 
grace  even  the  Thugs  of  India. 

Mrs.  Madison  states  that  General  Ross 
sent  a  message,  offering  her  an  escort  to 
whatever  place  of  safety  she  might  choose. 
"  I  make  no  war,"  Ross  pretentiously 
remarked,  "  on  letters  or  ladies,  arid  I  have 
heard  so  much  in  praise  of  Mrs.  Madison, 
that  I  would  rather  protect  than  burn  a 
house  which  sheltered  so  excellent  a  lady." 
She,  however,  had  seasonably  absented 
herself,  taking  with  her  such  valuables,  in 
the  shape  of  plate,  portraits,  and  ward 
robe,  as  she  could  hastily  collect  and  have 
placed  in  a  wagon.  One  of  the  articles 
which  Mrs.  Madison  insisted  on  saving, 
before  leaving,  was  a  large  picture  of  Gen 
eral  Washington  by  Stuart;  it  was.  how 
ever,  screwed  to  the  wall,  and  the  frame 
had  therefore  to  be  broken  and  the  canvas 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


249 


detached  therefrom,  Mrs.  Madison  stand 
ing  near  b}r,  with  a  carving  knife  in  her 
hand,  ready  with  her  assistance.  She 
succeeded,  with  the  aid  of  Mr.  Jacob 
Barker,  in  her  purpose,  and  escaped  to  a 
tavern  some  sixteen  miles  from  the  city, 
Mr.  Madison  joining  her,  secretly,  in  the 
evening.  Ross  remained  in  his  camp 
during  the  night.  Cockburn,  it  is  said, 
passed  the  same  time,  in  beastly  degra 
dation,  at  a  brothel. 

The  British  having  accomplished  the 
object  of  their  visit,  passed  through  Bla- 
densburg,  on  the  route  to  Benedict.  They 
left  their  dead  unburied ;  such  of  their 
wounded  as  could  ride,  were  placed  on 
horseback,  others  in  carts  and  wagons, 
and  a  considerable  number  were  left 
behind.  The  wounded  British  prisoners 
were  intrusted  to  the  humanity  of  Com 
modore  Barney,  who  provided  everything 
for  their  comfort;  and  such  as  recovered 
were  exchanged,  and  returned  to  the  Brit 
ish.  The  retreat  of  the  invaders,  though 
unmolested,  was  precipitate,  and  conducted 
under  evident  apprehension  of  an  attack. 
They  took  Alexandria  on  the  thirtieth  of 
August.  On  the  twelfth  of  September 
they  marched  upon  Baltimore,  but  were 
repulsed,  General  Ross  losing  his  life  in 
the  preliminary  engagement.  It  was  amid 
the  excitement  of  this  movement  on  the 
part  of  the  foe,  especially  their  bombard 
ment  of  Fort  McHenry,  that  Erancis  Key, 
who  was  on  the  spot  at  the  time,  composed 
that  popular  song,  "The  Star  Spangled 
Banner." 


On  account  of  Washington  being  the 
seat  of  government  of  the  American  repub 
lic,  its  capture  occasioned  great  eclat  on 
the  part  of  the  British,  and  much  chagrin 
and  indignation  throughout  the  United 
States — indeed,  the  whole  civilized  world 
exclaimed  against  the  act,  as  a  violation  of 
the  rules  of  modern  warfare.  The  capitals 
of  most  of  the  European  kingdoms  had 
lately  been  in  the  power  of  an  enemy  ;  but 
in  no  instance  had  the  conqueror  been 
guilty  of  similar  conduct.  In  this  case, 
too,  the  outrages  were  committed  while  a 
treaty  of  peace  was  actually  pending  !  The 
success  of  the  Americans  in  the  battles  of 
Chippewaand  Bridgewater,  had,  doubtless, 
greatly  exasperated  the  haughty  Britons, 
and  led  them  to  this  act. 

So  overwhelming  was  the  effect  upon 
the  people  of  the  United  States,  of  the 
wanton  burning  and  plunder  of  their  cap 
ital,  that  party  spirit  instantly  vanished, 
and  with  it  the  dissensions  which  had 
almost  paralyzed  the  government.  A 
nation  of  freemen  was  seen  to  rise  in  its 
strength.  Multitudes  who  had  at  first 
opposed  the  war  on  the  ground  of  its  impol 
icy,  or  who  had  condemned  the  invasion  of 
Canada,  now  viewed  Great  Britain  only  as 
a  powerful  nation,  precipitating  her  armies 
on  the  country,  with  the  simple  intention 
of  sating  her  vengeance  by  desolating  its 
fairest  portions.  The  whole  country  was  in 
motion ;  ever}'  town  was  a  camp ;  all  consid 
erations  Avere  merged  into  one,  paramount 
above  all  others,  namely,  the  defense  of 
the  country  against  a  barbarous  foe. 


XXVI. 

McDONOUGH'S    NAVAL   VICTORY   ON   LAKE   CHAM- 
PLAIN.— 1814. 


Tlie  Projected  British  Invasion  of  the  Northern  States,  by  Land  and  Water,  Frustrated  by  an  Over- 
whelming  Blow  on  Their  Favorite  Element. — Most  Unexpected  and  Mortifying  Kesultto  the  Enemy's 
Pride — Not  One  of  the  Seventeen  British  Ensigns  Visible  Two  Hours  After  the  Opening  of  tho 
Action  by  Downie — McDonough'a  Laconic  Message. — British  Advance  on  New  York. — Grand 
Scheme  of  Conquest. — Picked  Men  Employed  — Great  Land  and  Naval  Force  — Their  Fleet  on  Lake 
Champlain. — Downie,  a  Brave  Officer,  Commands. — Flushed  Confidence  of  Victory — Pleasure  Par 
ties  to  "See  the  Fight" — Pluck  of  Commodore  MuDonough — His  Prayer  on  the  Eve  of  Battle  — 
Strange  and  Beautiful  Omen  —Its  Inspiriting  Effect  on  the  Men — McDonough  Sights  the  First  Gun. 
—The  Flagships  in  Close  Grapple.— Their  Aspect  like  a  Sheet  of  Fire. — Tremendous  Cannonade  — 
The  Two  Fleets  in  Full  Action. — Desperate  Situation  of  Both. — McDonough's  Extraordinary  Keeort. 
— Downie  Completely  Circumvented.— At  the  Mercy  of  the  Americans.— No  English  Flag  on  the 
Lakes. 


"  Th*  Almighty  ha»  been  plemed  to  grant  us  a  signal  victory  on  Lake  Champlain."— COMMODORE  McDoxotoii  TO  TUB  KICRETART 
or  mi  NAVY. 


KEATLY  to  the  joy  of  the  Amer 
icans,  and  deeply  to  the  chagrin 
of  their  boastful  enemy,  the  pro 
jected  invasion  of  the  northern 
part  of  the  United  States,  planned  with  such 
apparent  sagacity  and  with  the  most  prodi 
gal  outlay  of  resources  by  the  British  gov 
ernment,  for  the  fall  campaign  of  1814,  met 
with  the  most  signal  defeat.  This  scheme 
of  conquest,  so  grandly  organized  and  con 
fidently  counted  upon,  covered  nothing  less 
than  the  subjugation  of  the  state  of  New 
York  and  the  several  states  of  New 
England,  by  a  combined  movement  of  the 
English  land  and  naval  forces.  The  Ameri 
cans,  confiding  in  the  bravery  of  those  with 
whom  they  had  intrusted  the  honor  of  their 
flag  on  the  ocean — Stewart,  Perry,  McDon- 

JACK'S  OFFKRI.NO  TO  HIS  COUNTRY.  ough>  Chauiicey,  Allen, Warriiigton,  Henley, 

Woolsey,  lilakeley,  Cassin,  and  others, — did  not  shrink  from  the  threatened  conflict. 
The  important   post   of  Plattsburg,  on    Lake  Champlain,  being,  for   the  time,  in   a 
comparatively  defenseless   state,  the   British  determined   to    initiate    their  movement 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


251 


by  an  attack  upon  that  place  by  land,  and, 
at  the  same  time,  to  attempt  the  destruc 
tion  of  the  American  flotilla  concentrated 
on  the  lake. 

Accordingly,  on  the  third  of  September, 
Sir  George  Prevost,  the  governor-general 
of  Canada,  at  the  head  of  some  fourteen 
thousand  men — most  of  them  veterans 
who  had  served 4under  Wellington  in  his 
recent  victorious  campaigns  against  Napo 
leon — entered  the  territories  of  the  United 
States.  On  the  sixth  they  arrived  at 
Plattsburg.  It  is  situated  near  the  lake, 
on  the  northern  bank  of  the  small  river 
Saranac.  On  their  approach,  the  Ameri 
can  troops,  who  were  posted  on  the  oppo 
site  bank,  tore  up  the  planks  of  the 
bridges,  with  which  they  formed  slight 
breastworks,  and  prepared  to  dispute  the 
passage  of  the  stream.  The  British 
employed  themselves  for  several  days  in 
erecting  batteries,  while  the  American 
forces  were  daily  augmented  by  the 
arrival  of  volunteers  and  militia.  Early 
in  the  morning  of  the  eleventh,  the  Brit 
ish  squadron,  commanded  by  Commodore 
Downie,  appeared  off  the  harbor  of  Platts 
burg,  where  that  of  the  United  States, 
commanded  by  Commodore  McDonough, 
lay  at  anchor  prepared  for  battle.  Downie, 
an  officer  of  high  distinction,  coveted  this 
combat  upon  Britain's  favorite  element, 
not  doubting  for  a  moment  that  he  should 
cover  himself  with  glory,  by  the  speedy 
capture  or  annihilation  of  the  Yankee  fleet. 
He  little  knew  the  pluck  of  McDonough, 
— a  striking  illustration  of  whose  charac 
ter  may  here  be  related  : 

In  1800,  McDonough  was  lieutenant  of 
a  United  States  vessel,  the  Siren,  then 
cruising  in  the  Mediterranean,  under 
the  command  of  Captain  Smith.  One 
forenoon,  during  the  absence  of  Captain 
Smith  on  shore,  a  merchant  brig,  under 
the  colors  of  the  United  States,  came  into 
port,  and  anchored  ahead  and  close  to  the 
Siren.  Soon  after,  a  boat  was  sent  from 
a  British  frigate  then  lying  in  the  harbor, 
and  the  crew  boarded  this  merchantman. 
After  remaining  alongside  a  little  while, 
the  boat  returned,  with  one  more  man  than 


she  went  ivith !  This  circumstance 
attracted  the  notice  of  McDonough,  who 
sent  Lieutenant  Page  on  board  the  brig, 
to  know  the  particulars  of  the  affair.  Page 
returned  with  information  that  the  man 
had  been  impressed  by  the  boat  that  came 
from  the  British  frigate,  although  he  had 
a  protection  as  an  American  citizen. 
McDonough's  blood  was  up  !  In  a  twink 
ling,  he  ordered  the  Siren's  gig  to  be 


COMMODORE  MCDOXOUGH. 


manned,  and  putting  himself  in  her,  went 
in  pursuit  of  the  boat,  determined  to 
rescue  his  countryman.  He  overtook  her 
alongside  the  British  frigate,  just  as  the 
man  at  the  bow  was  raising  his  boat-hook 
to  reach  the  ship,  and  took  out  the  Amer 
ican  by  force, — although  the  British  boat 
had  eight  oars,  and  his  only  four, — and 
carried  him  on  board  the  Siren.  When 
the  report  of  this  affair  was  borne  to  the 
captain  of  the  British  frigate,  he  put  off, 
in  a  rage,  for  the  Siren,  determined  to 
know  how  McDonough  had  dared  to  take 
a  man  from  one  of  his  majesty's  boats. 
Politely  greeting  him,  McDonough  reso 
lutely  said — 

"  The  man  is  an  American  seaman,  and 
under  the  protection  of  the  flag  of  the 
United  States,  and  it  is  my  duty  to  protect 
him." 

"  By !  I  don't  care  for  your  Amer 
ican  flag  !  If  you  don't  give  up  the  man, 
I'll  bring  my  frigate  alongside,  and  blow 
you  to  the  devil !  "  replied  the  Britisher. 

"  That  you  may  do ;  but,  as  long  as  my 
vessel  swims,  I  shall  keep  the  man," 
calmly  responded  McDonough. 


252 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


"  You  are  a  very  young  man,  and  will 
repent  of  this  indiscretion.  If  I  had  been 
in  the  boat,  you  would  not  dared  to  have 
taken  the  man,  I'm  —  —  if  you  would  !  " 

"  /  would  have  taken  the  man,  or  lost 
my  life"  said  McDonough. 

"  What,  sir  !  would  you  attempt  to  stop 
me,  if  I  were  now  to  undertake  to  impress 
men  from  that  brig  ?  "  inquired  the  Brit 
ish  captain,  scornfully. 

"  I  would ;  and,  if  you  wish  to  be  con 
vinced,  you  have  only  to  make  a  com 
mencement." 

Enraged  at  this,  the  Englishman 
returned  to  his  ship,  and  shortly  after 
wards  was  seen  making  in  the  direction  of 
the  American  merchantman.  McDonough 
thereupon  ordered  his  boat  manned  and 
armed,  and  got  in  her  himself,  all  in  read 
iness  for  pursuit.  The  Englishman,  seeing 
the  turn  things  were  likely  to  take,  and 
deeming  discretion  to  be  the  better  part  of 
valor,  contented  himself  with  taking  a  cir 
cuit  round  the  American  brig,  and  return 
ing  again  to  the  frigate.  Thus  the  affair 
ended. 

It  was  with  this  cool,  intrepid,  and  res 
olute  master  of  himself  and  of  the  situa 
tion,  that  Downie,  flushed  with  expectations 
of  a  speedy  and  easy  victory,  was  soon  to 
deal,  and  by  whom,  as  the  sequel  showed, 
lie  was  doomed  to  overwhelming  defeat,  on 
the  waters  of  that  vast  lake  where  his 
squadron  now  floated  in  proud  defiance. 
Indeed,  such  was  the  assurance  of  ability 
in  the  mind  of  Downie,  to  scatter  the 
Americans  to  the  four  winds,  that  a  Brit 
ish  barge,  filled  with  amateur  spectators, 
accompanied  the  other  vessels,  which 
misled  McDonough  to  suppose  that  there 
were  thirteen  barges  in  force,  when  in 
reality  there  were  but  twelve, — the  thir 
teenth  being  filled  with  idlers,  who  came 
not  to  bear  the  brunt  of  battle,  but  to 
enjoy  the  excursion,  and  witness  and  share 
the  expected  victory. 

On  Sunday  morning,  September  11, 
1814,  it  being  the  fifth  day  of  the  siege, 
the  motives  which  induced  the  British 
general  to  delay,  hitherto,  his  final  assault 
upon  the  American  works,  became  appar 


ent.  Relying  on  his  ability  to  carry  thorn, 
however  they  might  be  strengthened  and 
fortified,  he  had  awaited  the  arrival  of  the 
British  fleet,  in  the  belief  that,  with  its 
co-operation,  an  easy  conquest  could  be 
made  not  only  of  the  American  army,  but 
also  of  the  American  fleet.  On  this  day, 
therefore,  the  British  fleet,  consisting  of 
the  frigate  Confiance,  carrying  thirty-nine 
guns,  twenty-seven  of  which  were  twenty- 
four  pounders  ;  the  brig  Linnet,  of  sixteen 
guns ;  the  sloops  Chub  and  Finch,  each 
carrying  eleven  guns  ;  and  a  large  number 
of  galk'3'S,  each  carrying  one  or  two  guns; 
was  seen  coming  round  Cumberland,  where 
the  American  fleet  la}'  at  anchor. 

The  American  fleet  comprised  the  ship 
Saratoga,  carding  twenty-six  guns,  eight 
of  which  were  long  twenty-four  pounders  ; 
the  brig  Eagle,  of  twenty  guns;  the 
schooner  Ticonderoga,  of  seventeen  guns  ; 
the  sloop  Preble,  seven  guns ;  and  ten 
galleys,  six  carrying  two  guns  each,  and 
the  remainder  one  gun  apiece. 

Besides  the  advantage  which  the  enemy 
possessed  in  being  able  to  choose  their 
position,  their  force  was  much  superior. 
The  number  of  guns,  all  told,  in  the  Brit 
ish  fleet,  amounted  to  ninety-five,  and  of 
men,  to  upwards  of  a  thousand  ;  while  the 
Americans  had  only  eighty-six  guns,  and 
eight  hundred  and  twenty  men.  One  of 
the  American  vessels  had  been  built  with 
almost  incredible  dispatch  ;  eighteen  days 
before,  the  trees  of  which  it  was  con 
structed  were  actually  growing  on  the 
shores  of  the  lake. 

The  American  vessels  were  moored  in 
line,  with  five  gun-boats  or  galleys  on  each 
flank.  At  eight  o'clock,  the  look-out  boat 
announced  the  approach  of  the  British, 
and  at  nine,  immediately  on  getting  round 
Cumberland  Head,  Downie  anchored  in 
line  abreast  of  the  American  force,  at 
about  three  hundred  yards  distance,  and 
gave  tokens  of  battle.  The  youthful 
McDonough  awaited  all  these  movements 
with  perfect  calmness  and  order.  Indeed, 
true  to  his  manly  character  and  to  his 
trained  habits  of  observing  the  Sabbath 
and  trusting  to  divine  help  in  human 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


253 


affairs,  he  knelt  down  in  the  presence  of 
his  men,  and  solemnly  offered  up  the  fol 
lowing  prayer  of  the  Episcopal  service 
appointed  to  be  read  before  a  fight  at  sea 
against  an  enemy:  '  0  most  powerful  and 
glorious  Lord  God,  the  Lord  of  hosts,  that 
rulest  and  commandest  all  things;  Thou 
sittest  in  the  throne  judging  right,  and 
therefore  we  make  our  address  to  thy 
Divine  Majesty  in  this  our  necessity,  that 
thou  wouldest  take  the  cause  into  thine 
own  hand,  and  judge  between  us  and  our 
enemies.  Stir  up  thy  strength,  0  Lord, 
and  come  and  help  us ;  for  thou  givest  not 
alway  the  battle  to  the  strong,  but  canst 
save  by  many  or  by  few.  0  let  not  our 
sins  now  cry  against  us  for  vengeance  ; 
but  hear  us  thy  poor  servants  begging 
mercy  and  imploring  help,  and  that  thou 
wouldest  be  a  defense  unto  us  against  the 
face  of  the  enemy.  Make  it  appear  that 
thou  art  our  Saviour  and  mighty  Deliv 
erer,  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 
Amen.'  The  offering  up  of  this  invocation 
to  the  God  of  battles,  on  the  eve  of  that 
terrible  conflict,  was  a  most  unusual  occur 
rence,  eminently  worthy  the  just  cause  in 
whose  behalf  McDonough  was  about  to 
strike  so  decisive  a  blow.  It  is  also  related 
that,  at  the  very  moment  of  McDonough's 
ordering  his  vessels  cleared  and  prepared 
for  action — a  moment  when  modern  seamen, 
like  old  Romans,  are  extremely  alive  to 
signs,  which  the  superstition  natural  to 
sensitive  and  imaginative  persons  converts 
into  auspicious  or  ill-boding  occurrences, 
— a  cheerful  indication  animated  the  Sara 
toga,  such  as  Caesar  or  Napoleon  would 
have  proclaimed  to  his  soldiers  with 
delight,  and  they  would  have  hailed  with 
enthusiasm.  A  cock  flew  upon  a  gun- 
slide,  clapped  his  wings,  and  crowed, — a 
signal  of  defiance  and  victory  which  broke 
the  silence  of  anxious  expectation  preced 
ing  the  battle,  being  received  with  exult 
ant  cheers  by  the  seamen. 

In  the  line  of  battle,  the  Confiance, 
Downie's  own  vessel,  was  opposed  to  the 
Saratoga,  commanded  by  McDonough ; 
the  Linnet  to  the  Eagle;  the  British 
galleys  and  one  of  their  sloops  to  the 


Ticonderoga,  the  Preble,  and  the  left  divi 
sion  of  the  American  galleys  :  their  other 
sloop  was  opposed  to  the  galleys  on  the 
right.  To  complete  his  arrangements  for 
the  action,  McDonough  directed  two  of 
his  galleys  to  keep  in  shore  of  the  Eagle; 
and  a  little  to  windward  of  her,  to  sustain 
the  head  of  the  line ;  one  or  two  more  to 
lie  opposite  to  the  interval  between  the 
Eagle  and  the  Saratoga;  a  few  opposite 
to  the  interval  between  the  Saratoga  and 
Ticonderoga ;  and  two  or  three  opposite 
the  interval  between  the  Ticonderoga 
and  the  Preble.  The  rear  of  the  line 
appears  not  to  have  been  covered  according 
to  this  plan. 

In  this  position,  the  weather  being  per 
fectly  clear  and  calm,  and  the  bay  smooth, 
the  whole  force  on  both  sides  became 
engaged  in  the  work  of  blood;  and  at  the 
same  moment,  as  if  the  firing  from  the 
first  gun  from  the  Confiance  had  been  the 
signal,  the  land  conflict  commenced 
between  the  Americans,  under  General 
Macomb,  and  the  British,  under  Sir  George 
Prevost.  The  latter  opened  a  heavy  fire 
of  shot,  shells,  and  rockets,  upon  the  Amer 
ican  lines,  and  this  was  continued  with 
little  interruption  until  sunset,  and 
returned  with  spirit  and  effect.  At  six 
o'clock,  the  firing  on  the  part  of  the  Brit 
ish  ceased,  every  battery  having  been 
silenced  by  the  American  artillery.  At 
the  commencement  of  the  bombarding, 
and  while  the  ships  were  engaged,  three 
desperate  efforts  were  made  by  the  British 
to  pass  the  Saranac,  for  the  purpose  of 
carrying  the  American  works  by  storm,  or 
assault.  With  this  view,  scaling  ladders, 
fascines,  and  every  implement  necessary 
for  the  purpose,  were  prepared.  One 
attempt  was  made  to  cross  at  the  village 
bridge,  one  at  the  upper  bridge,  and  one 
at  the  ford  way,  three  miles  above  the 
works.  At  each  point,  they  were  met  at 
the  bank  by  the  American  troops  and 
repulsed. 

But  the  fate  of  the  day's  conflict,  in 
which  the  two  great  competitors  for  mili 
tary  superiority  were  now  so  earnestly 
engaged  on  the  land  and  on  the  sea, 


254 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


WCDONOL'OII'S  VICTORY  ON   LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


depended  chiefly  on  the  result  of  the  naval 
encounter,  and  this  latter  mainly  on  the 
result  of  the  sanguinary  battle  between 
the  two  largest  ships — the  Confiance  and 
the  Saratoga,  under  the  direction,  respec 
tively,  of  Downie  and  McDonough,  the 
commanders  of  the  fleets. 

As  the  British  came  nearer,  the  brig 
Eagle,  at  the  head  of  the  American  line, 
opened  lire  suddenly  with  a  broadside  from 
her  four  long-guns,  but  with  little  effect, 
on  account  of  the  distance.  McDonough, 
however, — according  to  Cooper's  narrative, 
—  did  not  give  the  order  to  commence, 
although  the  enemy's  galleys  now  opened, 
for  it  was  apparent  that  the  Eagle's  fire 
was  useless.  As  soon,  however,  :;s  it  was 
seen  that  her  shot  told,  McDonough  him 
self,  sighted  a  long  twenty-four,  and  the 
gun  was  fired.  This  shot  is  said  to  have 
struck  the  Confiance  near  the  outer  hawse- 
hole,  and  to  have  passed  the  length  of  her 
deck,  killing  and  wounding  several  men, 
and  carrying  away  the  wheel.  It  was  a 
signal  for  all  the  American  long-guns  to 
open,  and  it  was  soon  seen  that  the  Amer 


ican  commanding  ship  was  causing  her 
special  antagonist,  the  Confiance,  to  suffer 
heavily.  Still  the  enemy  advanced  stead 
ily,  and  in  the  most  gallant  manner,  con 
fident  if  he  could  get  the  desired  position 
with  his  vessels,  that  the  great  weight  of 
the  Confiance  would  at  once  decide  the 
fortunes  of  the  day.  But  he  had  miscal 
culated  his  own  powers  of  endurance,  and 
not  improbably  those  of  annoyance  pos 
sessed  by  the  enemy  on  the  other  side, 
under  the  gallant  McDonough.  The 
anchors  of  the  Confiance  were  hanging  by 
the  stoppers,  in  readiness  to  let  go,  and 
the  larboard  bower  was  soon  cut  away,  as 
well  as  a  spare  anchor  in  the  larboard 
forechains.  In  short,  after  bearing  the 
fire  of  the  American  vessels  as  long  as 
possible,  and  the  wind  beginning  to  baffle, 
Downie  found  himself  reduced  to  the 
necessity  of  anchoring  while  still  at  the 
distance  of  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from 
the  American  line.  The  helm  was  put 
a-port,  the  ship  shot  into  the  wind,  and  a 
kedge  was  let  go,  while  the  vessel  took  a 
sheer,  and  brought  up  with  her  starboard 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


255 


bower.  In  doing  the  latter,  however,  the 
kedge  was  fouled  and  became  of  no  use. 
In  coming  to,  her  halyards  were  let  run, 
and  she  hauled  up  her  courses.  At  this 
time,  the  Linnet  and  Chubb  were  still 
standing  in,  farther  to  windward,  and  the 
former,  as  her  guns  bore,  fired  a  broadside 
at  the  Saratoga.  The  Linnet  soon  after 
anchored,  somewhat  nearer  the  Confiance, 
getting  a  very  favorable  position  forward 
of  the  Eagle's  beam.  The  Chubb  kept 
under  way,  intending,  if  possible,  to  rake 
the  American  line.  The  Finch  got 
abreast  of  the  Ticonderoga,  under  her 
sweeps,  supported  by  the  gun-boats.  All 
the  English  vessels  came  to  in  very  hand 
some  style,  nor  did  the  Confiance  fire  a 
single  gun  until  secured.  As  soon  as 
Downie  had  performed  this  duty,  in  a 
seaman-like  manner,  his  ship  appeared  a 
sheet  of  fire,  discharging  all  her  guns  at 
nearly  the  same  instant,  pointed  princi 
pally  at  the  Saratoga.  The  effect  of  this 
broadside  thrown  from  sixteen  long 
twenty-fours,  double-shotted,  in  perfectly 
smooth  water,  with  guns  leveled  to 
point-blank  range,  and  coolly  sighted, 
was  terrible  upon  the  ship  that  received 
it,  killing  or  wounding  one-fifth  of 
her  men,  including  her  only  lieutenant, 
Gamble. 

But,  notwithstanding  the  greater  weight 
of  the  enemy's  battery  seemed  to  be  inclin 
ing  the  scale  of  victory  in  his  favor,  he 
suffered  prodigiously.  The  chances,  too, 
against  the  Saratoga,  were  accidentally 
increased  by  the  commander  of  the  Eagle, 
who,  being  unable  to  bring  his  guns  to 
bear  as  he  wished,  cut  his  cable,  and, 
anchoring  between  the  Saratoga  and 
Ticonderoga,  exposed  the  former  vessel  to 
a  galling  fire  from  the  British  brig  Linnet. 
The  cannonade  from  all  the  vessels  was 
now  incessant  and  destructive,  dismount 
ing  guns,  disabling  crews  and  masts,  and 
on  both  sides  extremely  devastating ;  every 
gun  on  the  side  of  the  Saratoga  facing  the 
enemy,  was  rendered  useless,  nor  was  the 
situation  of  the  English  such  as  to  inspire 
them  with  any  flattering  prospect  of  escap 
ing  annihilation. 


Things  had  so  culminated  that,  in  respect 
to  each  of  the  combatants,  the  fortunes  of 
the  contest  now  depended  upon  the  execu 
tion  of  one  of  the  most  difficult  naval  ma 
neuvers,  that  of  winding  the  vessel  round, 
and  bringing  a  new  broadside  to  bear ! 

This  feat  the  Confiance  essayed  in  vain. 
The  invincible  commander  and  crew  of  the 
Saratoga  saw,  at  once,  that  the  only 
chance  now  left  was  a  resort  to  some 
extraordinary  expedient  to  meet  the  immi 
nent  emergency.  Three  times  McDonough 
had  been  prostrated,  by  falling  spars, 
senseless  on  the  deck  of  his  ship — fought 
almost  to  the  water's  edge,  and  incapable 
of  further  effort.  It  was  at  this  critical 
moment,  that  an  old  seaman,  named  Brum, 
suggested  the  contrivance,  by  means  of  an 
anchor, — a  stern  anchor  being  put  on,  and 
the  bower  cable  cut, —  to  turn  the  ship 
round,  so  as  to  bring  into  action  the  side 
remaining  uninjured.  Under  this  arrange 
ment,  the  gallant  ship  rounded  to,  and 
presented  a  fresh  broadside  to  the  enemy. 
This  was  attended  with  such  destructive 
effect,  that  the  Confiance  was  obliged  to 
surrender  in  a  few  minutes. 

No  sooner  had  the  Confiance  surrendered, 
than  the  whole  broadside  of  the  Saratoga 
was  brought  to  bear  upon  the  Linnet, 
which  struck  its  flag  fifteen  minutes  after 
wards.  The  sloop  which  was  opposed  to 
the  Eagle,  had  struck  some  time  before,  and 
drifted  down  the  line.  The  sloop  that  was 
with  their  galleys  had  also  struck.  Three 
of  their  galleys  were  also  sunk,  and  the 
others  pulled  off.  McDonough's  galleys 
were  about  obeying  with  alacrity  the  signal 
to  pursue  them,  when  report  was  made  of 
all  of  them  being  in  a  sinking  state;  it 
consequently  became  necessary  to  annul 
the  signal  to  the  gallej^s,  and  order  their 
men  to  the  pumps.  McDonough  states 
that  he  could  only  look  at  the  enemy's 
vessels  going  off  in  a  shattered  condition, 
for  there  was  not  a  mast  in  either  squadron 
that  could  stand  to  make  sail  on,  for  any 
purpose  whatsoever.  The  lower  rigging, 
being  nearly  shot  away,  was  hanging  down 
as  loosely  and  uselessly  as  though  it  had 
just  been  placed  over  the  mast-heads. 


256 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


The  Saratoga  received  fifty-five  round 
shot  in  her  hull,  and  the  Confiance  one 
hundred  and  five.  The  action  lasted  with 
out  any  cessation,  on  a  smooth  sea,  at 
close  quarters,  two  hours  and  twenty  min 
utes.  In  the  American  squadron,  fifty-two 
were  killed,  and  fifty-eight  wounded.  In 
the  British,  eighty-four  were  killed,  and 
one  hundred  and  ten  wounded.  Among 
the  slain  was  Downie,  the  British  com 
mandant.  This  engagement  was  in  full 
view  of  both  armies,  and  of  throngs  of 
spectators  collected  on  the  heights,  border 
ing  on  the  bay,  to  witness  the  momentous 
scene.  It  was  viewed  by  the  inhabitants 
with  trembling  anxiety,  as  success  on  the 
part  of  the  British  would  have  opened  to 


them  an  easy  passage  into  the  heart  of  the 
country.  When,  therefore,  the  flag  of  the 
Confiance  was  struck,  the  shores  resounded 
with  the  deafening  acclamations  of  the 
troops  and  citizens.  The  British,  when 
they  saw  their  fleet  succumbing,  were 
terror-stricken.  Not  one  of  the  numerous 
British  ensigns  so  gaily  streaming  at  eight 
o'clock  was  visible  soon  after  ten.  British 
offensive  operations  in  that  vast  region 
were  now  stopped.  McDonough  received 
the  grateful  applause  of  his  countrymen; 
congress  conferred  its  highest  commemor 
ative  honors ;  and  the  legislature  of  Ver 
mont  presented  him  with  a  magnificent 
estate  on  Cumberland  Head,  overlooking 
the  very  scene  of  his  splendid  victory. 


XXVII. 

GENERAL  JACKSON'S  TERRIBLE  ROUT  AND  SLAUGHTER 
OF  THE  BRITISH  ARMY  AT  NEW  ORLEANS.— 1815. 


His  Consummate  Generalship  in  the  Order  and  Conduct  of  this  Campaign. — The  War  with  England 
Terminated  by  a  Sudden  and  Splendid  Victory  to  the  American  Arms. — Jackson  is  Hailed  as  One 
of  the  Greatest  of  Modern  Warriors,  and  as  the  Deliverer  and  Second  Savior  of  His  Country. — 
National  Military  Prestige  Gained  by  this  Decisive  Battle  — British  Invasion  of  Louisiana. — Prepar 
ations  to  Resist  Them. — Jackson  Hastens  to  New  Orleans. — His  Presence  Inspires  Confidence. — 
Martial  Law  Proclaimed. — Progress  of  the  British  Forces. — They  Rendezvous  at  Ship  Island. — 
Pirates  and  Indians  for  Allies. — Capture  of  the  United  States  Flotilla. — Arrival  of  Veterans  from 
England. — Desperate  Attempts  at  Storming. — Both  Armies  Face  Each  Other. — The  Day  of  Action, 
January  Eighth. — General  Pakenham  Leads  the  Charge. — His  Motto,  "  Booty  and  Beauty." — Fire 
and  Death  Open  Upon  Them. — They  are  Mown  Down  Like  Grass. — Pakenham  Falls  at  the  Onset. 
— Panic  and  Precipitate  Retreat. — America's  Motto,  "  Victory  or  Death." — The  Result  at  Home  and 
Abroad  — Startling  and  Impressive  Effect. 


"  The  redcoats  will  find  out  whom  they  have  to  deal  with.    I  will  smash  them,  10  help  me  God!"— GE.VKKAL  JACKSON,  ox  ASSUMING 

THE    DEFENSE    Of  NEW    ORLEANS. 


T  is  a  fact  fruitful  of  the  most  suggestive  reflections, 
that,  had  the  facilities  of  communication  by  steam 
and  electricity  been  enjoyed  in  1815,  as  they  are  at 
the  present  •  time,  the  battle  of  New  Orleans,  and 
the  blood  which  flowed  so  freely  on  that  memorable 
occasion,  would  have  been  spared ;  for,  only  two 
weeks  previous  to  the  sanguinary  conflict,  namely,  on  the  24th 
of  December,  1814,  the  treaty  of  peace  between  the  United 
States  and  Great  Britain  was  signed  at  Ghent,  by  the  ap 
pointed  commissioners, — a  most  joyous  event  to  all,  but  the 
tidings  of  which  did  not,  unfortunately,  reach  the  contending 
armies  in  Louisiana,  until  several  weeks  after  the  battle  took 
place.  Nevertheless,  perhaps  no  other  battle  in  American 
annals,  up  to  that  period,  had  given  such  prestige  to  the  valor 
of  American  arms,  nor  can  any  estimate  be  made  of  the 


258 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


immense  consequences  of  that  victory  to 
General  Jackson  and  his  country.  Mr. 
Bancroft,  the  historian,  says  that  the 
heroes  of  antiquity  would  have  contem 
plated  with  awe  the  unmatched  hardihood 
of  Jackson's  character. 

The  circumstances  which  led  to  a  battle 
so  creditable  in  its  result  to  the  genius 
and  braver}'  of  the  American  arm}'  were 
as  follows  :  On  the  twenty-fifth  of  August, 
1814,  a  British  army  landed  at  Pensaeola, 
and  took  forcible  possession  of  the  place, 
being  aided  by  the  Spaniards  in  all  their 
proceedings  ;  they  collected  all  the  Indians 
that  would  resort  to  their  standard;  and 
Colonel  Nichols,  the  chief  British  com 
mander,  even  sent  an  officer  to  the  notori 
ous  piratical  establishment  at  Barataria 
to  enlist  the  chief,  Lafitte,  and  his  follow 
ers,  in  their  cause,  the  most  liberal  and 
tempting  inducements  being  held  out. 
These  people,  however,  showed  a  decided 
preference  for  the  American  cause,  and, 
deceiving  the  English  by  delay,  conveyed 
intelligence  of  their  designs  to  the  gov 
ernor  of  New  Orleans,  and  frankly  offered 
their  services  to  defend  the  country.  Dis 
appointed  in  securing  their  aid,  the  expe 
dition  proceeded  to  the  attack  of  Fort 
Bowyer,  on  Mobile  point,  commanded  by 
Major  Lawrence.  The  result,  however, 
was  a  loss  to  the  besiegers  of  more  than 
two  hundred  men ;  the  commodore's  ship 
was  so  disabled  that  they  set  fire  to  her, 
and  she  blew  up,  and  the  remaining  three 
vessels,  shattered  and  filled  with  wounded 
men,  returned  to  Pensacola.  While  the 
British  were  thus  sheltered  in  this  place, 
busily  occupied  in  bringing  over  the  Indi 
ans  to  join  them,  General  Jackson, — who, 
after  the  peace  with  the  Creeks  had  become 
active  commander  at  the  south, — formed 
an  expedition  of  about  four  thousand  men, 
to  dislodge  them.  He  summoned  the 
town,  was  refused  entrance  by  the  Spanish 
governor,  and  his  flag  of  truce  was  fired 
upon  ;  the  British  soldiers  being  also  in 
the  forts,  where  their  flag  had  been 
hoisted,  in  conjunction  with  the  Spanish, 
the  day  before  the  American  forces 
appeared.  Preparations  were  immediately 


made  to  carry  the  place ;  one  battery 
having  been  taken  by  storm,  with  slight 
loss  on  either  side,  the  governor  surren 
dered,  the  English  having  previously 
retired  on  board  their  ships.  The  forts 
below,  which  commanded  the  passage, 
were  blown  up,  and  this  enabled  the 
English  fleet  to  put  to  sea. 

Returning  to  Mobile,  General  Jackson 
learned  that  preparations  were  making  by 
the  British  for  the  invasion  of  Louisiana, 
and  with  especial  reference  to  an  attack 
on  New  Orleans. 

He  accordingly  hastened  to  New  Orleans,, 
which  he  found  in  great  alarm  and  confu 
sion.  He  at  once  put  in  operation  the 
most  rigorous  measures  of  defense.  The 
militia  of  Louisiana  and  Mississippi  were 
ordered  out  en  masse,  and  large  detach 
ments  from  Tennessee  and  Kentucky. 
From  a  previous  correspondence  with  Gov 
ernor  Claiborne,  General  Jackson  had  been 
informed  that  the  city  corps  had,  for  the 
most  part,  refused  obedience  to  the  orders 
which  had  been  given  them  to  turn  out ; 
that  they  had  been  encouraged  in  their  dis 
obedience  by  the  state  legislature,  then  in 
session  in  the  city  ;  and  that,  although 
there  were  many  faithful  citizens  in  the 
place,  there  were  many  others  who  were 
more  devoted  to  the  interests  of  Spain,  and 
others  still  whose  hostility  to  the  English 
was  less  observable  than  their  dislike  to 
American  government. 

Under  these  circumstances,  and  finding 
that  the  statements  relative  to  the.  disaf 
fection  of  the  populace  were  fully  confirmed, 
Jackson,  on  consultation  with  the  gover 
nor,  in  conjunction  with  Judge  Hall,  and 
many  influential  persons  of  the  city,  on 
the  sixteenth  of  December,  issued  an 
order,  declaring  the  city  and  environs  of 
New  Orleans  to  be  under  strict  martial 
law. 

Nor  were  the  military  modes  and  plans 
adopted  by  General  Jackson,  outside  of 
the  city  proper,  wanting  in  efficiency. 
Fort  St.  Philip,  which  guarded  the  passage 
of  the  river  at  the  detour  la  Plaquemine, 
was  strengthened  and  placed  under  the 
command  of  Major  Overtoil,  an  able  and 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


259 


skillful  engineer.  A  site  was  also  selected 
for  works  of  defense,  four  miles  below  the 
city,  where  its  destinies  were  ultimately  to 
be  determined.  The  right  rested  on  the 
river,  and  the  left  was  flanked  by  an 
impenetrable  cypress  swamp,  which  ex 
tended  eastward  to  Lake  Pontchartrain, 
and  westward  to  within  a  mile  of  the  river. 
Between  the  swamp  and  the  river  was  a 
large  ditch  or  artificial  bayou  which  had 
been  made  for  agricultural  objects,  but 
which  now  served  an  important  military 
purpose.  On  the  northern  bank  of  this 
ditch,  the  entrenchments  were  thrown  up, 
and  large  quantities  of  cotton-bales  so 
arranged,  that  the  troops  could  be 
effectually  protected  from  the  fire  of  the 
British.  Each  flank  was  secured  by  an 
advance  bastion,  and  the  latter  protected 
by  batteries  in  the  rear.  These  works 
were  well  mounted  with  artillery.  Oppo 
site  this  position,  on  the  west  bank  of  the 
river,  on  a  rising  ground,  General  Morgan, 
with  the  city  and  drafted  militia,  was  sta 
tioned  ;  and  Commodore  Patterson,  with 
the  crews  of  the  Caroline  and  Louisiana, 
and  the  guns  of  the  latter,  formed  another, 
near  General  Morgan's ;  both  of  which 
entirely  enfiladed  the  approach  of  an 
enemy  against  the  principal  works.  A 
detachment  was  stationed  above  the  town, 
to  guard  the  pass  of  the  bayou  St.  John, 
if  an  attempt  should  be  made  from  that 
quarter. 

On  the  twenty-second  of  December,  the 
enemy  proceeded  from  their  rendezvous  on 
Ship  island,  with  all  their  boats  and  small 
craft  capable  of  navigating  the  lake  to  the 
bayou  Bienvenue,  and  having  surprised 
and  captured  the  videttes  at  the  mouth  of 
the  bayou,  the  first  division  accomplished 
their  landing  unobserved.  Major-General 
Villery,  of  the  New  Orleans  militia,  living 
on  the  bayou,  to  whom  the  important 
service  of  making  the  first  attack,  and 
giving  notice  of  the  enemy's  approach  was 
intrusted,  found  them  on  his  own  planta 
tion,  nine  miles  below  the  city,  without 
any  previous  knowledge  of  their  approach. 

The  morning  of  New  Year's  day,  1815, 
was  very  dark  and  foggy  amid  the  swamps 


and  bogs  of  New  Orleans,  and  the  day  was 
somewhat  advanced  before  the  Americans 
discerned  how  near  the  enemy  had  ap 
proached  to  them,  or  the  iiovel  use  which 
had  been  made  of  their  molasses  and  sugar 
hogsheads.  In  the  course  of  the  day, 
under  cover  of  these  batteries,  three 
unsuccessful  attempts  were  made  to  storm 
the  American  works.  By  four  in  the 
afternoon,  all  the  enemy's  batteries  were 
silenced,  and  the  next  night  found  them 
in  their  former  position. 

On  the  fourth  of  January,  General 
Adair  arrived,  with  four  thousand  Ken 
tucky  militia,  principally  without  arms. 
The  muskets  and  munitions  of  war,  des 
tined  for  the  supply  of  this  corps,  were 
provided  at  Pittsburg,  but  did  not  leave 
that  place  until  the  twenty-fifth  of  Decem 
ber,  and  arrived  at  New  Orleans  not  until 
several  days  after  the  decisive  battle  of 
January  eighth.  On  the  sixth,  the  enemy 
received  their  last  re-enforcement  of  three 
thousand  men  from  England,  under  Major- 
General  Lambert.  But  before  the  final 
assault  on  the  American  lines,  the  British 
general  deemed  it  necessary  to  dislodge 
General  Morgan  and  Commodore  Patter 
son,  from  their  positions  on  the  right 
bank.  These  posts  so  effectually  enfiladed 
the  approach  to  General  Jackson's  works, 
that  the  army  advancing  to  the  assault, 
must  be  exposed  to  the  most  imminent 
hazard.  To  accomplish  this  object,  boats 
were  to  be  transported  across  the  island 
from  lake  Borgne  to  the  Mississippi  ;  for 
this  purpose  the  British  had  been  labori 
ously  employed  in  deepening  and  widening 
the  canal  or  bayou  Bienvenue,  on  which 
they  first  disembarked.  On  the  seventh, 
they  succeeded  in  opening  the  embank 
ment  on  the  river,  and  completing  a  com 
munication  from  the  lake  to  the  Missis 
sippi.  In  pushing  the  boats  through,  it 
was  found,  at  some  places,  that  the  canal 
was  not  of  sufficient  width,  and  at  others 
the  banks  fell  in  and  choked  the  passage, 
thus  occasioning  great  delay;  at  length, 
however,  they  succeeded  in  hauling  through 
a  sufficient  number  to  transport  five  hun 
dred  troops  to  the  right  bank. 


260 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


On  the  left  bank,  where  General  Jack 
son  in  person  commanded,  everything  was 
in  readiness  to  meet  the  assault  when  it 
should  be  made.  The  redoubt  on  the 
levee  was  defended  by  a  company  under 
Lieutenant  Ross.  The  regular  troops 
occupied  that  part  of  the  entrenchment 
next  to  the  river.  General  Carroll's  divi 
sion  was  in  the  center,  supported  by  Gen 
eral  Adair's  Kentucky  troops;  while  the 
extreme  left,  extending  for  a  considerable 
distance  into  the  swamp,  was  protected  by 
the  brigade  of  General  Coffee.  How  soon 
the  onset  should  take  place,  was  uncertain  ; 
at  what  moment  rested  with  the  enemy, — 
with  the  Americans,  to  be  in  readiness  for 


pace  with  the  zeal  and  preparation  of  the 
enemy.  He  seldom  slept ;  he  was  always 
at  his  post,  performing  the  duties  of  both 
general  and  soldier.  His  sentinels  were 
doubled,  and  extended  as  far  as  possible  in 
the  direction  of  the  British  camp ;  while  a 
considerable  portion  of  the  troops  were 
constantly  at  the  line,  with  arms  in  their 
hands,  ready  to  act,  when  the  first  alarm 
should  be  given.  For  eight  days  did  the 
two  armies  remain  thus  upon  the  same 
field,  in  battle  array  and  in  view  of  each 
other,  without  anything  decisive  on  either 
side  being  effected.  Twice,  since  their 
landing,  had  the  British  columns  essayed 
to  effect  by  storm  the  execution  of  their 


resistance.  There  were  many  circum 
stances,  however,  favoring  the  belief  that 
the  hour  of  contest  was  fast  approaching ; 
the  unusual  bustle, —  the  efforts  of  the 
enemy  to  carry  their  boats  into  the  river, 
—the  fascines  and  scaling-ladders  that 
were  preparing;  all  these  circumstances 
indicated  the  hour  of  attack  to  be  near  at 
hand.  General  Jackson  was  not  only 
unmoved  by  these  appearances,  but,  accord 
ing  to  General  Eaton's  statements,  he 
anxiously  desired  a  contest,  which,  he 
believed,  would  give  a  triumph  to  his 
arms,  and  terminate  the  hardships  of  his 
soldiers.  Unremitting  in  exertion,  and 
constantly  yigilant,  his  precaution  kept 


plans,  and  twice    had   failed  and    retired 
from  the  contest. 

The  eifjhth  of  January,  1815,  at  lenyth 
arrived.  The  day  dawned ;  and  the  sig 
nals,  intended  to  produce  concert  in  the 
enemy's  movements,  were  descried.  On 
the  left,  near  the  swamp,  a  sky-rocket  was 
perceived  rising  in  the  air;  and  presently 
another  ascended  from  the  right,  next  the 
river.  They  were  intended  to  announce 
that  all  was  prepared  and  ready,  to  proceed 
and  carry  by  storm  a  defense  which  again 
and  again  had  foiled  their  utmost  efforts. 
Instantly  the  charge  was  made,  and  with 
such  rapidity,  that  the  American  soldiers 
at  the  outposts  with  difficulty  fled  in. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


261 


The  British  batteries,  which  had  been 
demolished  on  the  first  of  the  month,  had 
been  re-established  during  the  preceding 
night,  and  heavy  pieces  of  cannon  mounted, 
to  aid  in  their  intended  operations.  These 
now  opened,  and  showers  of  bombs  and 
balls  were  poured  upon  our  line,  while  the 
air  was  lighted  with  their  congreve  rock 
ets.  The  two  divisions,  commanded  by 
Sir  Edward  Pakenham  in  person,  and 
supported  by  Generals  Keane  and  Gibbs, 
pressed  forward ;  the  right  against  the 
center  of  General  Carroll's  command, — 
the  left  against  our  redoubt  on  the  levee. 
A  thick  fog,  that  obscured  the  morning, 
enabled  them  to  approach  within  a  short 
distance  of  our  entrenchment,  before  they 
were  discovered.  They  were  now  perceived 
advancing,  with  firm,  quick,  and  steady 
pace,  in  column,  with  a  front  of  sixty  or 
seventy  deep.  The  American  troops,  who 
had  for  some  time  been  in  readiness,  and 
waiting  their  appearance,  gave  three  deaf 
ening  cheers,  and  instantly  the  whole  line 
was  lighted  with  the  blaze  of  their  fire. 
A  burst  of  artillery  and  small-arms,  pour 
ing  with  destructive  aim  upon  them, 
mowed  down  their  front,  and  arrested  their 
advance.  It  was  a  perfect  sheet  of  fire 
and  death  ! 

The  havoc  and  horror  before  them — the 
terrible  carnage  which  swept  down  their 
advancing  ranks,  —  became  at  last  too 
great  to  be  withstood,  and  already  were 
the  British  troops  seen  wavering  in  their 
determination,  and  receding  from  the  con 
flict.  At  this  moment,  Sir  Edward  Paken 
ham,  the  distinguished  commander-in-chief 
of  the  British  forces,  hastening  to  the 
front,  endeavored  to  encom-age  and  inspire 
them  with  renewed  zeal.  His  example, 
however,  was  of  short  continuance,  for, 
when  near  the  crest  of  the  glacis,  he 
received  a  ball  in  the  knee;  still  continu 
ing  to  lead  on  his  men,  another  shot  soon 
pierced  his  body,  and  he  was  carried  in 
mortal  agony  from  the  field,  in  the  arms  of 
his  aid-de-camp.  Nearly  at  the  same  time, 
Major-General  Gibbs,  the  second  British 
officer  in  command,  received  a  mortal 
wound  when  within  a  few  yards  of  the 


lines,  and  was  removed.  The  third  in 
command  also,  Major-General  Keane, 
while  at  the  head  of  his  troops  near  the 
glacis,  was  terribly  wounded,  and  at  once 
borne  away. 

At  this  moment,  General  Lambert, — 
who  had  arrived  from  England  but  two 
days  before,  and  found  himself  now  the 
only  surviving  general, — was  advancing  at 
a  small  distance  in  the  rear,  with  the 
reserve,  and  met  the  columns  precipitately 
retreating,  broken  and  confused.  His 
efforts  to  stop  them  were  unavailing, — 
onward  they  continued  in  their  headlong 
retreat,  until  they  reached  a  ditch,  at  the 
distance  of  four  hundred  yards,  where  a 
momentary  safety  being  found,  the  pant 
ing  and  fear-stricken  fugitives  were  ral 
lied,  and  halted. 

The  field  before  them,  over  which  they 
had  so  confidently  advanced,  was  strewed 
with  the  dead  and  dying.  Imminent 
danger  faced  them ;  yet,  urged  and  en 
couraged  by  their  officers,  who  feared 
their  own  disgrace  involved  in  the  failure, 
they  again  moved  to  the  charge.  They 
were  already  near  enough  to  deploy,  and 
were  endeavoring  to  do  so ;  but  the  same 
constant  and  unremitted  resistance  that 
caused  their  first  retreat,  continued  yet 
unabated.  Our  batteries  had  never  ceased 
their  fire;  their  constant  discharges  of 
grape  and  canister,  and  the  fatal  aim  of 
our  musketry,  mowed  down  the  front  of 
the  columns  as  fast  as  they  could  be 
formed.  Satisfied  nothing  could  be  done, 
and  that  certain  destruction  awaited  all 
further  attempts,  they  forsook  the  contest 
and  the  field  in  disorder,  leaving  it  almost 
entirely  covered  with  the  dead  and 
wounded.  It  was  in  vain  their  officers 
endeavored  to  animate  them  to  further 
resistance,  and  equally  vain  to  attempt 
coercion.  The  panic  produced  by  the 
dreadful  repulse  they  had  experienced,— 
the  sight  of  the  field  on  which  they  had 
acted,  covered  with  the  ghastly  bodies  of 
their  countrymen, —  and  the  bitter  fact 
that,  with  their  most  zealous  exertions, 
they  had  been  unable  to  obtain  the 
slightest  advantage;  all  these  circum- 


262 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


stances  were  well  calculated  to  make  even 
the    most   submissive    soldier    oppose    the 


authority  that  would  have  controlled  him. 
The  decided  advantage  of  the  Americans 


gave  to  the  conduct  of  the  enemy  more  of 
the  character  of  madness  than  of  valor. 
As  has  already  been  stated,  the 
fall  of  General  Pakenham  and 
the  two  next  in  command  de 
volved  the  leadership  upon 
Lambert,  the  only  general  otli- 
cer  left  upon  the  field,  and  to 
whom  had  been  consigned  the 
charge  of  the  reserve ;  and 
though,  meeting  the  discom 
fited  troops  in  their  flight,  he 
endeavored  to  restore  the  for 
tune  of  the  day,  the  effort  was 
=-  fruitless  to  the  last  degree. 

On  the  ninth,  General  Lam- 
=  bert  determined  to  relinquish 
=  altogether  so  desperate  and 
t  hopeless  an  enterprise,  and 
K  immediately  commenced  the 
B  necessary  preparations,  though 
^  with  the  utmost  secrecy.  It 

*  was  not  until  the  night  of  the 
|  eighteenth,    however,    that   the 
a  British      camp     was      entirely 
'~  evacuated. 

\  The  loss  of  the  British  in 
'4  this  fatal  expedition  was  im- 
?  mense,  the  narrow  field  of  strife 

*  between   the  opposing  combat- 
£  ants  being  strewed  with  dead. 
f   So  dreadful  a  carnage,  consid- 
j*   ering  the   length  of   time   and 
£  the  numbers  engaged,  has  sel- 
~   dom  been  recorded.     Two  thou- 
H  sand,   at    the   lowest   estimate, 
2  pressed  the  earth,  besides  such 

of  the  wounded  as  were  not 
able  to  escape.  The  loss  of  the 
Americans  did  not  exceed  seven 
killed,  and  six  wounded.  Mili 
tary  annals  do  not  furnish  a 
more  extraordinary  instance  of 
disparity  in  the  slain,  between 
the  victors  and  vanquished. 
The  entire  British  force  en 
gaged  in  this  attempted  reduc 
tion  of  New  Orleans,  amounted 
to  twelve  thousand  men ;  thu 

Americans  numbered  some  six  thousand, 

chiefly  militia. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


263 


Pakenham,  the  distinguished  leader  of 
the  British  forces,  was  a  brother-in-law  of 
the  great  Duke  of  Wellington,  had  long 
been  in  high  repute  for  military  skill  and 
personal  bravery,  and  on  this  occasion 
numbered  among  his  troops  those  who  had 
won  laurels  of  victory  on  the  battle-fields 
of  Europe.  But,  that  he  felt  convinced  of 
the  magnitude  and  hazard  of  his  present 
undertaking,  as  distinguished  from  all 
previous  ones,  is  evident.  When  an  officer 
leads  his  troops  on  a  forlorn  attempt,  he 
not  unfrequently  places  before  them  allure 
ments  stronger  than  either  authority  or 
duty.  According  to  General  Eaton's  his 
torical  statements,  a  positive  charge  is 
made  against  General  Pakenham,  in  this 
respect,  —  inducements  having  been  held 
•out  by  him,  than  which  nothing  more 
inviting  could  be  offered  to  an  infuriated 
•soldiery.  By  this  gallant  but  misguided 
•general,  there  was  promised  to  his  soldiers 
— to  excite  their  cupidity — the  wealth  of 
the  city,  as  a  recompense  for  their  gal 
lantry  and  desperation ;  while,  with  brutal 
licentiousness,  they  were  to  revel  in  lawless 
indulgence,  and  triumph,  uncontrolled, 
over  female  innocence.  The  history  of 
Europe,  since  civilized  warfare  began,  may 
be  challenged  to  afford  an  instance  of  such 
gross  and  wanton  outrage.  The  facts  and 
circumstances  which  were  developed  at  the 
time,  left  no  doubt  on  the  minds  of  the 
American  officers,  but  that  '  Booty  and 
Beaut)/,'  was  the  British  watchword  of  the 
day.  The  information  was  obtained  from 
prisoners,  and  confirmed  by  the  books  of 
two  of  their  orderly  sergeants  taken  in 
battle. 

Jackson  was  well  aware,  from  the  first, 
of  the  bold  and  reckless  character  of  the 
enemy  he  had  to  deal  with.  With  patri 
otic  indignation  he  declared:  "The  red 
coats  will  find  out  whom  they  have  to  deal 
with.  1  will  smash  them,  so  help  me 
God  !  "  And  the  spirit  with  which  he  led 


his  men  forward  may  be  easily  judged  of 
from  his  emphatic  exclamation — "  Remem 
ber,  our  watchword  is  '  Victor)/  or  Death  ! ' 
We  will  enjoy  our  liberty,  or  perish  in  the 
last  ditch  !  "  Never  before  did  a  general 
bring  upon  his  troops  such  a  spell  of 
enthusiastic  devotion  to  himself,  and  to 
the  demands  of  the  hour.  So,  too,  in  the 
flush  of  triumph,  he  did  not  forget  mercy 
and  magnanimity.  "  General  Jackson," 
says  Blackwood's  Magazine,  of  London, 
"  behaved  with  humanity  and  generosity 
to  all  his  prisoners,  which  did  him  as  great 
honor  as  his  conduct  in  the  defense.  We 
do  not  hesitate  to  call  him  a  great  man." 
Such  was  the  encomium  bestowed  upon 
him  by  the  pen  of  an  enemy, — one  of 
the  most  influential  organs  of  British 
opinion. 

At  this  time,  the  person  of  General 
Jackson  is  described  as  being  neither 
robust  nor  elegant.  He  was  six  feet  and 
one  inch  high,  remarkably  straight  and 
spare,  and  weighing  about  one  hundred 
and  forty-five  pounds.  His  physique 
appeared  to  disqualify  him  for  hardship; 
yet,  accustomed  to  it  from  early  life,  few 
were  capable  of  enduring  fatigue  to  the 
same  extent,  or  with  less  injury.  His 
dark  blue  eyes,  with  brows  arched  and 
slightly  projecting,  possessed  a  marked 
expression ;  but  when  from  any  cause 
excited,  they  sparkled  with  peculiar  luster 
and  penetration.  In  his  manners  he  was 
pleasing  —  in  his  address  commanding. 
His  countenance,  marked  with  firmness 
and  decision,  yet  beamed  with  a  strength 
and  intelligence  that  struck  at  first  sight. 
In  his  deportment,  he  was  easy,  affable, 
familiar,  and  accessible  to  all. 

The  annunciation  of  the  triumphant 
defense  of  New  Orleans  was  hailed,  in 
every  section  of  the  country,  with  accla 
mations  of  delight,  and  won  for  Jackson 
the  title  of  "  the  conqueror  of  the  con 
querors  of  Napoleon." 


XXVIII. 
THE    EVER-MEMORABLE    SEPTEMBER    GALE.— 1815. 


Its  Violence  and  Destructiveness  Without  a  Parallel  Since  the  Settlement  of  the  Country.— Terror 
Excited  by  Its  Sudden  and  Tumultuous  Force. — Unprecedented  Phenomena  of  Tempest,  Deluge  and 
Flood  —One  Hour  of  Indescribable  Havoc  on  the  Land  and  Sea.— Premonitory  Indications  —Heavy 
North-east  Rains. — Sudden  and  Violent  Changes  of  Wind. — Its  Rapidity  and  Force  Indescribable. — 
Demolition  of  Hundreds  of  Buildings. — Orchards  and  Forests  Instantly  Uprooted. — Raging  and 
Foaming  of  the  Sea. — Its  Spray  Drives  Like  a  Snow-storm  over  the  Land. — Tremendous  Rise  in  the 
Tides  — Irresistible  Impetuosity  of  the  Flood. — Several  Feet  of  Water  in  the  Streets. — Innumerable 
Fragments  Fill  the  Air. — Flight  for  Safety  to  the  Fields. — The  Whole  Coast  Swarms  with  Wrecks. 
— Perils,  Escapes,  Fatalities. — Peculiar  Meteorological  Facts. — Bright  Skies  in  the  Midst  of  the  Tem 
pest. — Suffocating:  Current  of  Hot  Air. — Sea  Fowls  in  the  Depths  of  the  Interior. — Effect  Upon 
Lands,  Crops,  and  Wells  — All  New  England  Desolated. — Comparison  with  Other  Gales. 


-"  Still  overhead 

The  mingline  tempent  wears  itsgloom,  and  still 
The  deluge  deepens i  till  the  field*  around 
Lie  lunk  and  flatted  in  the  sordid  wave. 

All  that  the  winds  had  spared. 
In  one  wild  moment  ruined." 


UDGING  from  all  the  information,  historical 
and  traditional,  relating  to  the  great  American 
gales  during  the  last  hundred  years,  it  would 
appear  that  the  one  which  occurred  in  New 
England,  on  the  23d  of  September,  1815,  was 
and  is  still  without  a  parallel,  in  its  extraordi 
nary  characteristics  of  violence  and  destruc- 
tiveness.  In  the  history  of  the  country, 
dating  back  to  its  earliest  annals,  there  is  no 
account  of  any  gale  or  hurricane  equaling 
this,  in  its  various  phenomena  of  suddenness, 
severity  and  power.  As  distinguishing  it, 
therefore,  above  all  others  of  its  class,  this 
has  ever  since  been  called  the  Great  Septem 
ber  Gale. 

The  observations  of  the  character,  course 
and  effects  of  this  wonderful  storm,  made  by 
Professor  Farrar  and  others,  for  the  latitude 
of  Boston,  show  that  it  was  there  preceded  by 

which    rontinued    to   fall    for    about    twenty-four    hours   with   a  moderate    wind 
the   north-east.     Early  in   the   morning  of    the   twenty-third,   the   wind   shifted 
to  the  east,  and  began   to  blow  in   gusts   accompanied  with   showers.      It   continued 


rum, 
from 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


265 


to  change  toward  the  south  and  to  increase 
in  violence  while  the  rain  abated.  Be 
tween  nine  and  ten  o'clock  in  the  fore 
noon,  it  began  to  excite  alarm.  Chimneys 
and  trees  were  blown  over  both  to  the 
west  and  north  ;  but  shingles  and  slates, 
that  were  torn  from  the  roofs  of  buildings, 
were  carried  to  the  greatest  distance  in  the 
direction  of  about  three  points  west  of 
north. 

Between  half-past  ten  and  half-past 
eleven  o'clock,  the  greatest  destruction 
took  place.  The  rain  ceased  about  the 
time  the  wind  shifted  from  south-east  to 
south  ;  a  clear  sky  was  visible  in  many 
places  during  the  utmost  violence  of  the 
tempest,  and  clouds  were  seen  flying  with 
great  rapidity  in  the  direction  of  the  wind. 
The  air  had  an  unusual  appearance.  It 
was  considerably  darkened  by  the  exces 
sive  agitation,  and  filled  with  the  leaves 
of  trees  and  other  light  substances,  which 
were  raised  to  a  great  height  and  whirled 
about  in  eddies,  instead  of  being  driven 
directly  forward  as  in  a  common  storm. 
The  rivers  raged  and  foamed  like  the  sea  in 
a  storm,  and  the  spray  was  raised  to  the 
height  of  sixty  or  one  hundred  feet  in  the 
form  of  thin  white  clouds,  which  were 
drifted  along  in  a  kind  of  wave  form,  like 
snow  in  a  violent  snow-storm.  Travelers 
were  frequently  driven  back  by  the  force 
of  the  wind,  and  were  obliged  to  screen 
themselves  behind  fences  and  trees  or  to 
advance  obliquely.  It  was  impossible  for 
even  the  stoutest  man  to  stand  firm  in  a 
place  exposed  to  the  full  force  of  the  wind. 
The  pressure  of  the  wind  was  like  that 
of  a  rapid  current  of  water ;  pedestrians 
could  with  great  difficulty  hear  each  other 
speak  at  the  distance  of  two  or  three 
yards;  and  they  moved  about  almost  as 
awkwardly  as  if  attempting  to  wade  in  a 
strong  tide. 

In  Boston  harbor,  the  sea  had  risen 
unusually  high,  two  hours  before  the  calen 
dar  time  of  high  water.  But  the  direction 
of  the  wind  at  this  time  tended  to  coun 
teract  the  tide,  and  thus  secured  the  port 
from  that  awful  calamity  which  threatened 
it.  Great  losses,  however,  were  sustained 


from  the  wind  alone ;  many  buildings 
were  blown  down,  great  numbers  were 
unroofed  or  otherwise  injured,  and  few 
entirely  escaped.  The  most  calamitous 
destruction  befell  the  trees, — orchards  and 
forests  exhibiting  a  scene  of  desolation, 
the  like  of  which  had  never  before  been 
witnessed  in  America.  The  roads  in  many 
places  were  rendered  impassable,  not  only 
through  woods,  but  in  the  more  cultivated 
towns,  where  they  happened  to  be  lined 
with  trees ;  and  the  streets  in  Boston  and 
neighboring  towns  were  strewed  with  the 
ruins  of  innumerable  gardens  and  fruit- 
yards.  A  considerable  proportion  of  the 
large  and  beautiful  trees  in  Boston  mall, 
and  in  other  public  walks,  some  of  which 
trees  measured  from  eight  to  twelve  feet 
in  circumference,  were  torn  up  by  the 
roots  and  prostrated.  Apple  trees,  in 
especial,  being  separated  at  a  considerable 
distance  from  each  other,  were  overturned 
in  great  numbers  ;  no  less  than  jive  thou 
sand  were  thus  destroyed  in  the  toivn  of 
Dorchester  alone.  In  this  same  town, 
also,  seventeen  houses  were  unroofed,  sixty 
chimneys  blown  over,  and  about  forty 
barns  demolished. 

Rhode  Island  felt  the  full  force  of  this 
remarkable  gale,  Providence  suffering  to 
the  amount  of  millions  of  dollars,  accom 
panied  with  a  fearful  loss  of  life,  as  in 
other  places.  This  was  owing  to  the  wind 
blowing  directly  up  the  river  on  which  the 
place  is  built,  unbroken  by  the  cape  or 
Long  Island,  and  in  sweeping  over  such 
an  extent  of  water  it  accumulated  a  dread 
ful  and  most  destructive  tide,  so  that 
vessels  were  actually  driven  over  the 
ivharves  an<l  tlirough  the  streets.  Early 
in  the  morning,  the  wind  was  north-east, 
but,  at  about  eight,  it  shifted  to  south-east, 
and  soon  began  to  blow  violently,  continu 
ing  to  increase  until  ten,  when  it  became 
a  hurricane.  All  was  now  confusion  and 
dismay  in  the  exposed  region.  The  tide, 
impelled  by  the  tempest,  overflowed  the 
wharves  ;  vessels,  broken  from  their  moor 
ings  in  the  stream,  and  their  fastenings  at 
the  wharves,  were  seen  driving  with  dread 
ful  impetuosity  towards  the  bridge,  which 


266 


OUR  FIRST  CEKTURY.— 1776-1876. 


they  swept  away,  without  a  moment's 
cheek  to  their  progress,  and  passed  on  to 
the  head  of  the  basin,  where  they  drove 
high  up  the  bank.  Every  exertion  to 
protect  property,  was  rendered  futile  by 
the  violence  of  the  wind,  the  rapid  rise  of 
the  water,  and  the  falling  of  trees  ;  indeed, 
these,  with  the  crashing  of  chimneys, 
tumbling  upon  the  houses  and  descending 
into  the  streets,  together  with  tiles  and 
railings  from  the  tops  of  buildings,  and 
many  other  species  of  dangerous  missile 
flying  through  the  air,  rendered  it  perilous 
to  appear  in  the  streets.  All  considera 
tion  of  property,  however,  was  soon  for 
gotten  in  the  more  important  one  of  self- 
preservation.  The  tempest  still  raged 


elements,  were  seen  removing  the  panic- 
stricken  inmates;  and  on  the  east  side,  an 
awful  torrent  rolled  through  the  main 
street,  in  depth  nearly  to  a  man's  waist, 
and  by  which  boats,  masts,  bales  of  cotton, 
and  immense  quantities  of  property  of 
every  description,  were  driven  along  with 
resistless  force.  It  tr</x  <tn  <urfnl and  tcr- 
rijic  scene.  Every  store  below,  on  the 
east  side,  was  either  carried  away  or  com 
pletely  shattered  ;  and  every  building  on 
the  opposite  side  and  on  the  wharves,  were 
swept  from  their  foundations — so  that  all 
the  space,  where,  an  hour  or  two  before, 
were  so  many  valuable  wharves  and  stores 
crowded  with  shipping  and  merchandise, 
was  now  one  wide  waste  of  tumultuous 


lABLE  GALE,  SEPTEMBER  23,   1815. 


with  increasing  violence ;  the  flood  was 
overwhelming  the  lower  parts  of  the  town  ; 
stores  and  dwelling-houses  were  tottering 
on  their  foundations,  and  then,  plunging 
into  the  deluge,  blended  their  shattered 
remains  with  the  wrecks  of  vessels, — the 
whole  passing,  with  irresistible  impetuos 
ity,  in  full  view,  on  the  current  to  the  head 
of  the  cove,  to  join  the  already  accumu 
lated  mass  of  similar  wrecks. 

By  this  time,  the  water  on  the  west  side 
of  the  river  had  risen  nearly  to  the  tops  of 
the  lower  windows  of  the  houses,  and  boats 
and  scows,  struggling  with  the  maddened 


water.  Only  two  small  vessels,  of  all  that 
were  in  the  harbor,  succeeded  in  riding 
out  the  gale,  all  the  rest  having  drifted 
ashore,  or  been  carried  high  up  on  the 
wharves.  It  was  such  a  scene  of  wide 
spread  ruin  and  desolation,  as  beggars  all 
description — vessels  of  all  kinds  and  in 
every  position,  blended  promiscuously, 
with  carriages,  lumber,  wrecks  of  build 
ings  of  every  variety,  furniture,  and  tens 
of  thousands  of  fragments  from  far  and 
near,  all  told  the  story  of  universal  havoc 
and  destruction.  Women  and  children  were 
saved  in  boats  from  chamber-windows. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


267 


One  distressing  and  peculiar  scene, 
which  took  place  among  the  shipping,  will 
serve  as  a  description  of  a  thousand  other 
cases  which  occurred  during  the  storm.  A 
brig,  loaded  and  ready  for  sea,  with  live 
stock,  drove  against  the  end  of  a  wharf, 
and  her  head  rested  on  it ;  here  she  hung, 
appearing  every  moment  as  if  she  would 
upset,  and  plunge  her  crew  into  the  raging 
flood.  The  men  were  seen  clinging  to  her, 
awaiting  their  fate,  as  no  soul  could  ven 
ture  to  their  succor, — the  whole  distance 
between  the  vessel  and  the  houses  being 
filled  with  roofs  and  parts  of  stores  tum 
bling  with  the  violence  of  the  tempest. 
Expecting  every  moment  to  be  precipitated 
into  the  torrent,  they  determined  at  last 
upon  the  final  but  perilous  attempt  to  quit 
the  vessel  and  gain  the  houses.  Strug 
gling  with  the  violence  of  the  gale,  and 
with  the  rolling  and  bounding  materials, 
in  endeavoring  to  get  a  foothold,  they  at 
last  reached  the  rear  of  the  houses,  where 
some  were  taken  into  the  second  story, 
and  others,  unable  to  be  reached,  succeeded 
in  braving  the  waves  until  they  swam  to  a 
place  of  safety. 

I  Jut  it  would  be  absolutely  impossible  to 
giv^  an  extended  detail  of  the  disastrous 
scenes  pertaining  to  each  separate  locality, 
although  some  of  the  incidents  and  items 
of  the  gale's  destructive  effects  deserve  to 
be  cited  for  their  very  marvelousness. 
Mention  has  already  been  made  of  the 
devastation  in  Dorchester,  near  Boston, — 
unparalleled  since  its  settlement, — result 
ing  in  seventeen  houses  being  unroofed, 
sixty  chimneys  prostrated,  forty  barns 
demolished,  and  more  than  five  thousand 
trees  destroyed.  The  number  of  buildings, 
large  and  small,  destroyed  in  Providence, 
was  estimated  at  Jive  hundred,  and  about 
fifty  vessels  ivrecked.  In  many  instances, 
majestic  oaks,  which  had  braved  the  tem 
pests  an  hundred  years  or  more,  were 
thrown  down,  or  twisted  into  shreds  ;  and 
in  Danvers,  Mass.,  the  venerable  pear  tree, 
imported  and  transplanted  by  Governor 
Endicott,  was  made  terrible  havoc  with. 
In  Chelsea,  not  far  from  Danvers,  the 
great  Elm  tree,  seventeen  feet  in  girth, 


and  which  had  a  portico  built  upon  its 
limbs,  capable  of  holding  thirty  persons, 
was  among  the  wrecked.  In  the  little 
town  of  Acton,  about  twenty  miles  from 
Boston,  the  damage  amounted  to  forty 
thousand  dollars.  At  Stonington,  Conn., 
the  tide  rose  seventeen  feet  higher  than 
usual,  all  the  vessels  going  ashore  or  sink 
ing,  and  all  the  wharves  and  man}-  build 
ings  being  destroyed.  The  fate  of  one 
citizen  of  this  town  was  almost  as  disas 
trous  as  that  of  Job  of  yore :  His  house, 
ropewalk,  blacksmith's  shop,  and  other 
buildings,  with  all  their  contents,  were 
swept  away,  and,  melancholy  to  relate,  his 
wife,  daughter,  wife's  mother,  and  a 
young  lady  visitor,  all  perished  in  the 
billows.  All  along  the  New  England 
coast,  and  as  far  as  New  York,  the  damage 
done  to  the  shipping  was  immense,  hun 
dreds  of  vessels  with  their  cargoes  being 
wrecked  ;  and  almost  every  seaport  as  well 
as  inland  town  suffering  to  some  degree, 
— in  many  instances,  almost  irreparable,  in 
kind  and  extent.  Innumerable  churches 
were  wholly  or  partially  ruined,  and  the 
number  of  cattle  killed  was  very  great. 
The  gale  was  also  severely  felt  by 
vessels  off  Cape  Hatteras,  in  the  gulf 
stream,  off  the  capes  of  Delaware,  at  Sandy 
Hook,  Nantucket  Shoals,  Cape  Ann,  Cape 
Henlopen,  etc. 

The  course  of  the  gale,  as  ascertained 
from  data  procured  from  various  points, 
furnishes  facts  of  peculiar  meteorological 
interest.  Thus,  in  Philadelphia,  there 
was,  during  most  of  the  night  of  the 
twenty-second,  a  gale  from  the  north-east, 
with  heavy  rain.  Early  the  next  day,  the 
wind  veered  to  the  north-west,  the  gale 
continuing,  with  torrents  of  rain,  for  sev 
eral  hours.  Between  eight  and  nine 
o'clock,  the  wind  slackened,  the  rain 
ceased,  and  clouds  broke  away  in  the  west 
and  south.  About  noon,  the  weather  was 
clear  and  mild,  with  a  gentle  westerly 
breeze.  During  the  greater  part  of  the 
afternoon,  the  sun  was  obscured  with  fly 
ing  clouds  from  the  west  and  north-west. 

In  New  York,  a  violent  north-east  storm 
of  wind  and  rain  commenced  at  night,  on 


208 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


the  twenty-first ;  about  two  o'clock,  the 
wind  suddenly  shifted  to  the  north  and 
north-west,  blowing  with  increased  vio 
lence.  On  the  twenty-second,  there  was  a 
gale  all  day,  from  the  north-east  and  east, 
with  heavy  and  incessant  rain.  The  gale 
increased  in  the  evening,  continuing  until 
four  o'clock  the  next  afternoon,  though 
most  violent  at  nine  o'clock  the  same  fore 
noon,  the  wind  being  north  to  north-west. 

At  New  London,  Connecticut,  the  storm 
commenced  on  Friday,  the  twenty-second, 
a  heavy  rain  falling  during  that  day  and 
night,  the  wind  north-east.  Next  morn 
ing,  the  twenty-third,  the  wind  became 
very  violent,  and  soon  after  almost  a  hur 
ricane.  The  tide,  which  commenced  flood 
about  six  o'clock,  had,  by  ten,  risen  three 
or  four  feet  higher  than  was  ever  known 
before.  The  rise  was  so  rapid,  too,  that 
some  of  the  dwellings  were  deluged  before 
the  inhabitants  knew  of  their  danger,  and 
not  more  than  thirty  minutes  elapsed  after 
they  thus  realized  their  peril,  before  the 
waves  rose  four  to  six  feet  in  the  streets  ! 
Stores  were  soon  seen  falling  before  the 
terrible  power  of  the  tempest,  buildings 
were  unroofed,  giant  trees  fell.  But  this 
awful  scene  of  destruction  was  short. 
Soon  after  eleven  o'clock,  the  wind  shifted 
to  the  westward  and  abated ;  the  sea 
returned  with  the  velocity  it  came  in, 
though  it  should  have  run  flood  until 
twelve  ;  and  the  storm  ceased.  The  show 
ers  which  fell  over  the  city  and  neighbor 
hood  were  of  salt  water  ;  and  the  leaves  of 
the  tender  fruit-trees  and  shrubs  and  of 
many  forest  trees,  without  frost,  shrunk  in 
a  few  hours  after  the  gale  as  though  they 
had  been  scorched.  Brooks  and  wells  in 
the  town  and  neighborhood  became  brack 
ish  ;  and  during  the  strength  of  the  wind, 
in  the  eddies,  the  air  was  extremely  hot 
and  suffocating. 

Far  into  the  interior,  the  tempest  swept 
and  raged  with  unparalleled  fury.  Early 
on  Saturday  morning,  the  wind  became 
very  violent,  and  torrents  of  rain  descended, 
continuing  with  but  short  intermissions 
until  about  half-past  ten  in  the  forenoon  ; 
at  this  time,  the  rain  abated,  and  the  wind, 


suddenly  shifting  to  the  south-east,  blew  a 
hurricane,  the  terrible  devastation  of  which 
covered  a  column  or  area  of  sixty  miles  in 
width.  A  suffocating  current  of  air  as, 
from  a  hot  bath,  accompanied  the  middle 
stage  of  the  tempest.  Flocks  of  gulls. 
from  the  far-off  ocean,  were  seen  after  the 
storm  in  the  Worcester  meadows,  and,  as 
evening  approached,  they  flew  toward  the 
sea. 

Along  the  seaboard,  the  effect  of  the 
tide  upon  the  soil  and  its  productions  was 
very  marked.  Grass  was  entirely  killed. 
There  was  not  a  green  blade  to  be  seen,  in 
any  place,  over  which  the  flood  had  passed. 
In  a  few  spots,  near  running  springs,  some 
new  shoots  appeared  in  the  course  of  the 
autumn  ;  but  on  uplands,  none  grew  until 
another  season,  and  then  it  was  not  the 
same  kind  of  grass  which  grew  there 
before,  excepting  in  a  very  few  instances. 
Several  cedar-swamps  were  filled  with  sea 
water,  which,  having  no  outlet,  soaked 
into  the  ground.  The  trees  in  these 
swamps  perished  forthwith,  the  leaves 
withering  and  falling  off  in  a  very  short 
time.  In  the  trees  cut  from  these  swamps 
during  the  winter  following  the  storm,  the 
sap-wood  had  turned  nearly  black ;  and 
there  was  scarcely  an  instance  in  which  a 
cedar-tree  survived  the  effect  of  the  flood. 
Pine  and  oak  trees  suffered  a  similar  fate, 
excepting  a  very  few,  which  stood  near 
the  shore, — these  latter,  perhaps,  having 
grown  accustomed  to  the  influence  of  salt 
water,  and  could  better  endure  the  ordeal, 
— though  a  very  great  proportion  even  of 
these  perished  in  a  short  time.  Most  of 
the  shrubs  and  bushes,  over  which  the  tide 
passed,  perished  similarly.  It  was  ob 
served,  however,  that  one  or  two  species 
of  laurel,  and  the  common  bayberry,  were 
but  little  if  at  all  injured,  and  some  of 
the  swamp  whortleberry-bushes  survived. 
Apple  trees  were,  generally,  on  such  high 
ground,  that  the  tide  did  not  reach  them ; 
only  a  few  were  surrounded  by  the  water, 
and  none  of  them  were  so  situated  that  the 
water  could  remain  about  them  for  any 
length  of  time.  They  were,  nevertheless, 
as  much  exposed  as  many  of  the  cedars 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


269 


which  died ;  but  the  apple  trees  continued 
to  live,  though  considerably  stinted  in 
their  growth.  With  these  exceptions,  the 
destruction  of  vegetable  life  in  localities  of 
this  exposure,  was  very  general,  if  not 
universal. 

Wherever  the  cultivated  lands  were  in 
low  places  near  the  shore,  they  were  of 
course  overflowed.  In  fields  where  Indian 
corn  was  standing,  the  roots  were,  in  most 
cases,  torn  out  of  the  ground;  and  where 
this  did  not  take  place,  the  stalks  were 
wrenched  and  twisted,  and  the  spikes 
broken  off.  The  corn,  where  it  had  pre 
viously  grown  hard  or  ripe,  was  fit  for 
food,  but  where  the  grain  had  not  alread}r 
hardened,  it  failed  to  do  so,  and  either  per 
ished  in  the  husk,  or  very  soon  after  it 
was  taken  out.  It  was  a  common  remark, 
that  no  part  of  the  plant  could  be  dried  by 
any  means,  and  therefore  by  far  the 
greater  part  of  the  harvest  was  lost,  not 
being  yet  ripe.  Potatoes,  and  other 
vegetable  roots,  if  left  in  the  ground, 
perished ;  but,  where  they  had  ripened, 
and  were  taken  up  within  a  few  days 
after  the  flood,  and  well  dried,  they  were 
good. 


which  the  tide  water  did  not  run,  were  so 
infected  with  the  taste  and  qualities  of  sea 
water,  as  to  be  totally  unfit  for  domestic 
purposes.  The  inhabitants  were  obliged 
therefore  to  transport  this  necessary  article 
for  household  uses,  from  a  great  distance ; 
and  travelers  who  needed  it  were  glad  to 
receive  it  in  a  measure  of  the  smallest 
capacity.  In  some  wells  near  the  shore, 
the  water  formerly  rose  and  fell  with  the 
tide,  still  remaining  fresh  ;  but  the  severe 
and  peculiar  discipline  of  this  flood  so 
changed  their  habit,  that  the  water  in 
them  became  of  a  fixed  height,  and  saltish. 
When  the  vast  and  tremendous  tide  was 
sweeping  over  the  land,  the  spray  arising 
from  it  was  very  great,  over  a  wide  surface 
of  country,  extending  to  the  furthermost 
of  the  interior  of  the  northern  states.  It 
is  spoken  of  as  having  resembled  a  driving 
snow-storm,  through  which  objects  could 
be  discerned  only  at  short  distances.  In 
the  more  northerly  regions,  it  was  observed, 
immediately  after  the  storm,  that  a  singu 
lar  effect  had  been  produced  upon  the 
leaves  of  the  trees  by  the  spray ;  their 
vitality  was  destroyed,  and  they  exhibited 
an  appearance  similar  to  that  which 


HOKROKS  OK  THE  WHIRLWIND  THROUGHOUT  NEW  ENGLAND. 


Fresh  water,  along  the  seaboard,  was, 
for  a  long  time,  a  rarity  of  price,  the  wells 
having  been  generally  overflown  and  left 
full  of  sea  water.  Watering-places  for 
cattle  suffered  a  similar  fate ;  and  so 
extensive  was  the  influence  of  the  flood, 
that  many  wells,  pools  and  streams,  into 


accompanies  frost,  except  that  they 
retained  more  of  their  original  color,  and 
in  some  instances  they  assumed  a  dark 
red  hue,  as  if  they  had  been  well  scorched. 
But  in  other  sections  along  the  shore,  the 
leaves  did  not  exhibit  this  peculiar  dis 
coloration  ;  those  which  were  destroyed  by 


270 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


the  flood,  bore  every  mark  of  death,  but 
not  of  having  been  burnt, — neither  was 
there  any  thin  coating  of  salt  on  the  win 
dows  in  these  regions,  as  on  those  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Boston  and  elsewhere. 

In  multitudes  of  instances,  the  saltness 
of  the  wells  and  watering-places  continued 
unabated  for  six  months,  or  until  the  first 
week  of  the  following  March.  The  winter 
had  been  severe,  and  the  ground  frozen 
very  deep  until  the  middle  of  February, 
when  there  were  several  weeks  of  moderate 
weather,  with  soft  rains,  which  dissolved 
the  snows  and  opened  the  ground  ;  shortly 
after  which,  it  was  discovered  that  several 
of  the  wells  and  ponds  were  fr<\sh.  As 
the  water  in  these  had  been  tasted  but  a 
few  days  previously  and  was  found  still  to 
retain  its  disagreeableness,  the  freshness 
must  have  taken  place  suddenly.  After 
successive  spells  of  dry  weather,  these 
wells  grew  salt  again,  but  not  to  the  same 
degree  as  before ;  and,  on  the  other  hand, 
they  would  be  fresh,  after  heavy  rains,  and 
then  become  salt  again  after  dry  weather, 
the  degree  of  saltness  diminishing  from 
time  to  time.  This  peculiarity  continued 
for  several  years,  in  some  localities,  being, 
of  course,  a  great  inconvenience  to  man 
and  beast. 

The  center  or  the  limits  of  this  great 
and  memorable  tempest,  scientific  investi 
gators  were  unable  to  determine.  It  was 
very  violent  at  places  separated  by  a  con 
siderable  interval  from  each  other;  while 
the  intermediate  region  suffered  much  less. 
Its  course  through  forests  was,  in  some 
instances,  marked  almost  as  definitely,  as 
where  the  trees  have  been  newly  cut  down 
for  a  road.  In  these  cases,  it  appears  to 
have  been  a  moving  vortex,  and  not  the 
rushing  forward  of  the  great  body  of  the 
atmosphere.  There  seems  to  have  been 
no  part  of  the  coast  of  New  England  which 
escaped  its  fury,  though  in  Vermont  and 
the  western  parts  of  New  Hampshire  its 
severity  was  much  less ;  yet  still  further 
west,  on  the  St.  Lawrence,  the  gale  was  so 
great  as  to  render  it  extremely  dangerous 
to  be  upon  the  river.  And  what  is  still 
more  remarkable,  the  storm  began  to  grow 


violent  at  this  place  about  the  same  time 
that  it  commenced  near  the  Atlantic,  and 
subsided  about  the  same  time. 

As  to  the  direction  of  the  wind,  at  the 
several  places  where  the  storm  prevailed, 
Professor  Farrar's  account  states,  that,  on 
the  twenty-second,  the  wind  was  pretty 
generally  from  the  north-east.  The  storm 
commenced  to  the  leeward ;  but  when  the 
wind  shifted  from  north-east  to  east  and 
south,  along  the  coast  of  New  England,  it 
veered  round  in  the  opposite  direction  at 
New  York,  and  at  an  earlier  period.  It 
reached  its  greatest  height  at  this  latter 
place  about  nine  o'clock  on  the  morning  of 
the  twenty-third,  when  it  was  from  the 
north-west ;  whereas,  at  Boston,  it  became 
most  violent  and  devastating  about  two 
hours  later,  and  blew  from  the  opposite 
quarter  of  the  heavens.  At  Montreal,  the 
direction  of  the  wind  was  the  same  as  at 
New  York,  but  did  not  attain  its  greatest 
height  so  soon  by  several  hours.  The 
barometer  descended  very  fast  during  the 
morning  of  the  twenty-third,  and,  when 
the  wind  was  highest,  had  fallen  about 
half  an  inch.  It  began  to  rise  as  the  wind 
abated,  and  recovered  its  former  elevation 
by  the  time  the  air  was  restored  to  its 
usual  tranquillity. 

According  to  the  investigations  made 
by  others,  and  the  observations  recorded 
at  the  time,  in  different  places,  the  follow 
ing  facts  are  believed  to  be  established, 
namely :  That  the  hurricane  commenced 
in  the  West  Indies,  and  moved  northward 
at  the  rate  of  twelve  or  fifteen  miles  an 
hour.  Its  course  from  St.  Barts  was  about 
west-north-west  to  Turks  Island,  and 
thence  to  Boston  —  nearly  on  the  same 
meridian — it  was  a  curve  convex  to  the 
west.  Previous  to  the  arrival  of  the  hur- 
ricane  in  New  England,  a  north-east  storm 
had  prevailed  along  the  Atlantic  coast  for 
more  than  twenty-four  hours.  For  some 
hours  previous  to  the  hurricane,  there  was 
a  great  and  rapid  condensation  of  vapor, 
producing  a  heavy  fall  of  rain  in  the  line 
of  the  north-east  storm.  The  hurricane, 
or  violent  blow,  was  mostly  from  the  south 
east,  blowing  into  and  at  right  angles  to 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


271 


the  north-east  storm,  at  its  southern  ter 
mination.  As  the  south-east  wind  ap 
proached  the  line  of  the  north-east  storm, 
it  was  deflected  into  an  east  wind.  The 
general  form  of  the  hurricane,  in  and  about 
New  England,  was  that  of  an  eccentric 
ellipse,  with  its  longest  diameter  north 
east  and  south-west ;  wind  blowing  north 
east  on  the  north-west  side ;  north-north 
west,  and  west-north-west,  at  its  south 
end ;  south-east  on  its  south-east  side, 
curving  into  an  east  wind  at  its  junc 
tion  with  the  north-east  current ;  wind 
blowing  from  south  at  the  easternmost 
part  of  the  hurricane.  The  whole  body 
of  the  hurricane,  in  the  form  thus 
described,  moved  to  the  north  nearly  on 
the  meridian. 

It  is  universally  admitted,  that  there  is 
no  account  of  a  storm  or  gale  in  all  respects 
so  remarkable  in  its  phenomena  as  this,  to 
be  found  in  the  history  of  the  United 
States.  Other  hurricanes  there  have  been, 
laying  waste  whatever  came  in  their  way, 
but  they  have  been  comparatively  limited 
in  their  extent  and  destmctiveness. 
Morton,  in  his  New  England  Memorial, 
gives  a  description  of  the  violent  tempest 
that  took  place  soon  after  the  first  settle 
ment  at  Plymouth.  It  began  on  the 
morning  of  August  fifteenth,  1635,  very 
suddenly,  "  blew  down  houses,  uncovered 
divers  others,  divers  vessels  were  lost  at 
sea;  it  caused  the  sea  to  swell  in  some 
places  so  that  it  arose  to  twenty  foot  right 
up  and  down,  and  made  many  Indians  to 
climb  into  trees  for  their  safety ;  blew 
down  many  hundred  thousands  of  trees," 
etc.  The  tremendous  gales  of  1723,  1804, 
1818,  1821,  1836,  1841,  1851,  1859, 
I860,  1869,  and  some  others,  will  long 


be  remembered  in  certain  localities,  for 
their  severity  and  the  loss  of  life 
and  property,  on  land  and  sea,  which 
attended  them  ;  but  neither  the  memory 
of  man,  nor  the  annals  of  the  country, 
from  its  first  settlement  down  to  the 
present  time,  furnish  any  parallel  to 
the  peculiar  character  of  the  great  gale 
of  September,  1815. 

Of  the  storms  and  floods  which  occurred 
during  the  last  half  of  the  century,  those 
of  September  and  October,  1869,  were  per 
haps  the  most  memorable.  The  devasta 
tion  by  the  latter  embraced  the  whole 
country  between  the  Nova  Scotia  coast  and 
the  Mississippi,  and  from  the  north  limits 
of  the  Canadas  to  the  cotton  states.  The 
rain  fell  in  torrents  for  about  forty  consec 
utive  hours,  the  dense  clouds  descending 
in  vast  sheets,  and  a  moaning  wind  accom 
panying  the  powerful  outpouring.  A 
stronger  storm  was  beyond  conception.  In 
some  places,  the  rain-gauge  showed  that 
four  inches  of  rain  fell  in  the  course  of 
twenty-nine  hours,  and,  during  the  suc 
ceeding  six  hours,  3.34  inches  additional, 
— the  total  fall  of  water  during  the  storm, 
over  a  vast  region  of  country,  reaching  the 
enormous  amount  of  8.05  inches.  The 
resulting  floods  on  all  the  streams  were 
beyond  any  ever  recorded.  The  storm  was 
so  sudden  and  unexpected,  that  no  pre 
cautions  could  have  been  taken,  and  none 
were.  Railroads,  telegraph  wires,  streets, 
bridges,  dams,  manufactories,  houses,  lands, 
crops,  were  utterly  or  partially  ruined, 
over  a  wide  extent  of  country ;  and  such 
an  embargo  on  travel  was  never  known 
before.  The  pecuniary  losses  reached 
millions  of  dollars,  and  many  lives  were 
lost. 


XXIX. 

VISIT     OF    LAFAYETTE    TO    AMERICA,    AS    THE    GUEST 
OF    THE    REPUBLIC.— 1.824. 


His  Tour  of  Five  Thousand  Miles  Through  the  Twenty-Four  States. — A  National  Ovation  on  the 
Grandest  Scale. — Cities,  States,  Legislatures  and  Governors,  Vie  in  Their  Demonstrations  of  Respect. 
—  The  Venerable  Patriot  Enters  the  Tomb  and  Stands  Beside  the  Remains  of  His  Great  Departed 
Friend,  Washington.  —  Noble  Qualities  of  the  Marquis.  —  A  Favorite  of  Louis  XVI.  —  Hears 
of  the  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill. — Pleads  the  Cause  of  the  Americans. — Resolves  to  Join  Their 
Army  — Freely  Consecrates  His  Vast  Wealth. — Equips  a  Vessel  and  Embarks. — Introduced  to 
General  Washington — Admiration  of  Him  by  the  Chieftain. — One  of  Washington's  Military 
Fiimily. — A  Major-General  in  His  Nineteenth  Year. — Heroic  Fidelity  During  the  War — Subse 
quent  Vicissitudes  in  France. — America's  Heart-Felt  Sympathy. — He  Leaves  Havre  for  New  York. — 
,  Enthusiasm  Excit 

ed  by  His  Pres 
ence.  —  Incidents, 
Interviews,  Fetes. 
—  Greetings  with 
d  Comrades.  — 
Memories,  Joys, 
and  Tears.  —  De 
parts  in  the  United 
States  Ship  Lafay 
ette.  —  His  Death 
in  1834. — National 
Grief. 


"Fortunate,  fortunate  man  1 
Heaven  naw  fit  to  ordain  that 
the  electric  ipark  of  liberty 
•  hem lil  he  conducted, through 
J.nfnvette,  from  the  New 
World  to  the  Old."— UA.NIKL 
WEBSTER. 


WO  names  are  most  intimately  and  indissolubly  associated  with 
the  dramatic  train  of  military  events  which  led  to  the  establish 
ment  of  the  United  States  as  a  nation  and  government,  namely, 
those  of  WASHINGTON  and  LAFAYETTE.  No  two  names  are, 
down  to  the  present  day,  more  fresh  in  the  love  and  gratitude  of  the  American  people, 
and,  until  time  shall  be  no  more,  a  test  of  the  fidelity  with  which  that  people  hold  to 
the  principles  of  republican  wisdom  and  virtue  that  gave  them  birth,  will  be  their 
admiration  of  the  names  of  those  patriots  and  heroes.  To  understand,  therefore, 
the  significance  of  that  spontaneous  outburst  of  popular  enthusiasm  which  greeted 
Lafayette  on  his  visit  to  America  in  1824,  and  which  made  that  year  one  of  the  most 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


273 


memorable  in  the  nation's  history,  it  will 
only  be  necessary  to  glance  at  the  services, 
military  and  civil,  rendered  us  by  this 
large-hearted  patriot,  during  the  opening 
years  of  our  national  existence.  Those 
services  and  that  reception  form,  indeed,  a 
national  romance. 

When  only  thirteen  years  of  age,  Lafay 
ette  was  left  an  orphan,  and  in  full  posses 
sion  of  valuable  estates,  and  master  of  his 
own  affairs.  Being  for  a  time  at  the  col 
lege  in  Paris,  his  associations  brought  him 
into  notice  at  the  court  of  King  Louis,  and 
he  became  quite  a  favorite  with  that  mon 
arch.  He  was  appointed  one  of  the 
queen's  pages,  and  through  her  agency 
received  a  commission  at  the  early  age  of 
fifteen.  He  formed  an  early  attachment 
to  a  daughter  of  the  noble  family  of 
Noailles,  with  whom  he  was  united  in 
marriage  at  the  age  of  sixteen.  Adopting 
the  profession  of  a  soldier,  Lafayette,  at 
nineteen,  was  stationed,  as  captain  of  dra 
goons,  at  Metz,  one  of  the  garrisoned 
towns  of  France.  Here,  in  1776,  Lafay 
ette's  attention  was  directed  to  the  conflict 
of  liberty  in  America  —  the  hostilities 
between  Britain  and  her  colonies ;  and 
while  in  conversation  with  the  Duke  of 
Gloucester,  brother  to  George  the  Third,  of 
England,  he  elicited  facts  that  led  him  to 
see  the  whole  merits  of  the  case.  The 
battle  of  Bunker  Hill  and  the  Declaration 
of  Independence  fired  his  heart!  Before 
rising  from  the  dinner-table  at  which  this 
interview  occurred,  Lafayette  had  resolved 
to  leave  his  home,  and  offer  himself  and 
his  services  to  the  rising  republic,  whose 
cause  he  regarded  as  just  and  noble.  From 
that  hour  he  could  think  of  nothing  but 
this  chivalrous  enterprise,  though  aware 
that  it  would  cut  him  off  from  the  favor 
of  that  brilliant  court-circle  in  which  he 
shone  so  conspicuously,  and  that  he  would 
also  have  to  tear  himself  away  from  his 
young,  beautiful,  and  fondly  attached 
wife,  who  alone,  among  all  his  associates, 
approved  of  his  intention. 

Proceeding  to  Paris,  he  confided  his 
scheme  to  two  young  friends,  Count  Segur 
and  Viscount  Noailles,  and  proposed  that 
18 


they  should  join  him.  They  entered  with 
enthusiasm  into  his  views,  but,  owing  to 
obstacles  put  in  their  way  through  family 
interference,  they  were  prevented  from 
following  out  their  course,  but  faithfully 
kept  their  comrade's  secret.  He  next 
explained  his  intention  to  Count  Broglie, 
who  advised  him  to  abandon  it  at  once  as 
in  the  highest  degree  chimerical  and  haz 
ardous.  The  count  assured  him  that  his 
confidence  was  not  misplaced ;  but,  said 
he— 

"  I  have  seen  your  uncle  die  in  the  wars 
of  Italy,  I  witnessed  your  father's  death  at 
the  battle  of  Minden,  and  I  will  not  be 
accessory  to  the  ruin  of  the  only  remaining 
branch  of  the  family." 

But,  so  far  from  being  disheartened  by 
the  unpromising  reception  which  Lafay 
ette's  plan  met  with  from  those  to  whom 
he  made  known  his  purposes,  his  ardor 
was  rather  increased  in  the  pursuit  of  his 
object.  "  My  zeal  and  love  of  liberty," 
said  he,  "have  perhaps  been  hitherto  the 
prevailing  motives ;  but  now  I  see  a 
chance  for  usefulness,  which  I  had  not 
anticipated.  I  have  money ;  I  will  pur 
chase  a  ship,  which  shall  convey  to  Amer 
ica  myself,  my  companions,  and  the  freight 
for  congress."  All  this,  as  the  sequel  will 
show,  he  nobly  and  self-sacrificingly  car 
ried  out. 

This  design  was  now  made  known  by 
Lafayette  to  Messrs.  Franklin,  Lee,  and 
Deane,  the  American  commissioners  at 
Paris  ;  and  to  a  proposal  so  disinterested 
and  generous  they  could,  of  course,  make 
no  objection, — could  only  admire,  indeed, 
the  spirit  which  actuated  it ;  and  he  hast 
ened  immediately  to  put  it  into  execution. 
After  surmounting  the  many  difficulties 
which  from  time  to  time  interrupted  the 
progress  of  his  plans,  he  at  last  set  sail, 
the  Baron  de  Kalb  and  eleven  other  offi 
cers  of  various  ranks,  in  pursuit  of  em 
ployment  in  the  American  army,  consti 
tuting  his  retinue.  In  due  time  they 
approached  the  shore  near  Georgetown, 
South  Carolina,  having  fortunately  escaped 
two  British  cruisers,  and  soon  proceeded 
to  Charleston  harbor,  where  a  magnificent 


274 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-187G. 


reception  was  given  them.  The  vessel 
\vas  subsequently  loaded  with  riee  for  the 
French  market,  but  it  foundered  in  going 
out  of  the  harbor,  and  both  the  vessel  and 
the  cargo  became  a  total  loss. 

But  Lafayette  had  not  yet  reached  his 
destination.  As  soon,  however,  as  all 
things  were  in  readiness,  the  party  left 
Charleston  and  traveled  to  Philadelphia, 
where  congress  was  then  sitting.  On 
arriving  there,  he  put  his  letters  into  the 
hands  of  Mr.  Lovell,  chairman  of  the  com 
mittee  on  foreign  affairs.  He  called  the 
next  day  at  the  hall  of  congress,  and  Mr. 
Lovell  came  out  to  him  and  said,  that  so 
many  foreigners  had  offered  themselves  for 
employment,  that  congress  was  embar 
rassed  with  their  application,  and  he  was 
sorry  to  inform  him  there  was  very  little 
hope  of  his  success.  Lafayette  suspected 
that  his  papers  had  not  been  read,  and  he 


immediately  sat  down  and  wrote  a  note  to 
the  president  of  congress,  in  which  he 
desired  to  be  permitted  to  serve  in  the 
American  army  on  two  conditions  :  first, 
that  he  should  receive  no  pay ;  second, 
that  he  should  act  as  a  volunteer.  These 
terms  were  so  different  from  those  de 
manded  by  other  foreigners,  and  presented 
so  few  obstacles  on  the  ground  of  any 
interference  with  American  officers,  that 
they  were  at  once  accepted.  His  rank, 


zeal,  perseverance,  and  disinterestedness, 
overcame  every  objection,  and  he  was 
appointed  a  major-general  in  the  American 
army  before  he  hud  reached  the  age  of 
twenty. 

But  he  was  yet  to  stand  before  the  f:,ce 
of  the  great  American  chieftain.  'Wash 
ington  was  at  head-quarters  when  Lafay 
ette  reached  Philadelphia,  but,  being  daily 
expected  in  the  city,  the  young  general 
concluded  to  wait  his  arrival,  instead  of 
presenting  himself  at  camp.  The  intro 
duction  of  the  youthful  stranger  to  the 
man  on  whom  his  career  depended  was, 
however,  delayed  only  a  few  days.  It 
took  place  in  a  manner  peculiarly  marked 
with  the  circumspection  of  Washington, 
at  a  dinner-party,  where  Lafayette  was 
one  among  several  guests  of  consideration. 
Washington  was  not  uninformed  of  the 
circumstances  connected  with  Lafayette's 
arrival  in  this  country  ;  and  it  may  well 
be  supposed  that  the  eye  of  the  father  of 
his  country  was  not  idle  during  the  re 
past.  But  that  searching  glance,  before 
which  pretense  or  fraud  never  stood 
undetected,  was  completely  satisfied. 
When  they  were  about  to  separate, 
Washington  took  Lafayette  aside,  spoke 
to  him  with  kindness,  complimented 
him  \ipon  the  noble  spirit  he  had  shown 
and  the  sacrifices  lie  had  made  in  favor 
of  the  American  cause,  and  then  told 
him  that  lie  should  be  pleased  if  he 
would  make  the  quarters  of  the  com- 
mander-in-chief  his  home,  establish  him- 
'  self  there  whenever  he  thought  proper, 
and  consider  himself  at  all  times  as  one 
of  his  family, — adding,  in  a  tone  of  pleas 
antry,  that  he  could  not  promise  him  the 
luxuries  of  a  court,  or  even  the  con 
veniences  which  his  former  habits  might 
have  rendered  essential  to  his  comfort,  but, 
since  he  had  become  an  American  soldier 
he  would  doubtless  contrive  to  accommo 
date  himself  to  the  customs,  manners  and 
privations  of  a  republican  army.  Such 
was  the  reception  given  to  Lafayette,  by 
the  most  sagacious  and  observant  of  men  ; 
and  the  personal  acquaintance,  thus  com 
menced,  ripened  intp  an  intimacy,  a  con- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


275 


fidence,  and  an  affection  without  bounds, 
and  never  for  one  moment  interrupted.  If 
there  lived  a  man  whom  Washington 
loved  and  admired,  it  was  Lafayette. 

Gloriously  did  Lafayette  fulfill,  in  his 
military  career,  the  high  hopes  which 
swelled  the  hearts  of  American  patriots,  in 
the  heroic  courage  which  he  displayed  at 
Brandywine,  where  he  received  a  ball  in 
his  leg ;  his  success  in  Jersey,  before  he 
had  recovered  from  his  wounds,  in  a  battle 
where  he  commanded  militia  against  Brit 
ish  grenadiers;  in  the  brilliant  retreat, 
by  which  he  eluded  a  combined  maneuver 
of  the  whole  British  force ;  by  his  great 
services  in  the  enterprise  against  Rhode 
Island,  and  his  successful  movements 
against  Cornwallis;  —  all  these  proofs  of 
his  patriotism  and  military  skill,  together 
with  his  warm  and  unsullied  friendship 
for  Washington,  through  all  the  varying 
fortunes  of  war,  endeared  him  forever  to 
every  American. 

After  the  fall  of  Cornwallis,  Lafaj^ette 
sailed  for  France,  but  revisited  America 
in  1784.  He  was  received  with  enthusi 
asm  wherever  he  went.  Returning  to 
France,  he  found  himself  the  object  of 
immense  popularity,  and  took  his  seat  with 
the  notables,  convoked  in  1787.  In  1789, 
he  boldly  proposed,  in  the  national  convo 
cation,  the  Declaration  of  Rights,  which 
he  had  brought  from  the  free  soil  of  Amer 
ica,  as  the  preliminary  of  a  constitution. 
Proclamation  of  this  world-renowned  doc 
ument  was  made  July  22,  audit  furnished 
the  French  people  with  the  metaphysical 
reasons  for  the  "sacred  right  of  insurrec 
tion."  Meanwhile  the  Bastile  had  been 
taken,  July  14,  the  national  guard  organ 
ized,  and  Lafayette  appointed  to  the  com 
mand.  In  this  capacity  he  rode  a  white 
charger,  and  shone  the  impersonation  of 
chivalry,  and  twice  the  royal  family  owed 
their  preservation  to  his  address  and  cour 
age.  When  the  popular  enthusiasm  lulled, 
he  returned  to  his  native  fields ;  the 
national  guard,  on  his  retirement,  present 
ing  him  with  a  bust  of  Washington,  and 
a  sword  forged  from  the  bolts  of  the  Bas 
tile.  Subsequently,  having  denounced  the 


bloodthirsty  Jacobins,  he  was  burned  in 
effigy  by  the  sans-culottes  of  Paris,  and, 
fleeing  from  the  guillotine  which  there 
awaited  him,  he  finally  fell  into  the  hands 
of  the  Austrians,  and  was  by  them  sub 
jected  to  along  and  cruel  imprisonment  in 
the  fortress  at  Olmutz.  His  release,  so 
earnestly  but  unsuccessfully  solicited  by 
Washington,  was  peremptorily  demanded 
by  Napoleon,  and  obtained,  in  September, 
1797.  In  the  year  1818,  he  became  a 
member  of  the  chamber  of  deputies,  and, 
resuming  his  career  as  an  advocate  of  con 
stitutional  principles,  succeeded  at  last  in 
elevating  Louis  Philippe  to  the  throne  of 
France. 

By  this  time,  Lafayette  had  grown  old 
in  the  services  he  had  rendered  to  America 
and  France.  Though  his  years  were  now 
nearly  three  score  and  ten,  lie  could  not 
think  of  meeting  death  until  he  had  once 
more  seen  that  land  of  liberty  across  the 
wide  Atlantic,  which  was  as  dear  to  him  as 
his  native  country.  In  its  infancy,  and 
for  its  freedom,  he  had,  fifty  years  ago, 
contributed  his  wealth  and  shed  his  blood, 
sharing  the  bosom  confidence  of  the  great 
Washington  as  did  no  other  human  being. 
That  struggling  little  republic  had  now 
become  a  giant  nation  ;  the  thirteen  states 
constituting  the  original  galaxy,  had  be 
come  almost  double  that  number,  and  vast 
as  the  empires  of  antiquity  in  territory. 
Remembering  his  magnificent  services,  in 
1824  the  congress  of  the  United  States 
A'oted  unanimously  a  resolution  requesting 
President  Monroe  to  invite  Lafayette  to 
visit  the  United  States,  as  the  nation's 
guest, — an  honor  never  before  accorded  a 
foreign  nobleman, — and  tendering  a  ship 
of  the  line  for  his  conveyance.  This  invi 
tation  was  extended  to  the  great  French 
patriot  in  President  Monroe's  most  happy 
manner,  and  was  duly  accepted,  though 
the  offer  of  a  war-ship  was  declined. 

On  the  twelfth  of  July,  1824,  Lafayette, 
accompanied  by  his  son,  George  Washing 
ton  Lafayette,  and  his  secretary,  M.  Levas- 
seur,  sailed  from  Havre  for  America.  He 
arrived  in  New  York,  August  fifteenth, 
and  landed  on  Staten  Island.  Oue  of  the 


276 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


first  to  greet  him  was  Joseph  Bonaparte, 
brother  of  the  great  Napoleon.  Joseph 
then  resided  at  Bordentown,  New  Jersey  ; 


1TWORD  OF  HONOR  PRESENTED  TO  LAFAYETTE. 

he  had  alwaj's  cherished  a  high  regard  for 
the  Marquis,  and  greatly  valued  his 
friendship.  The  interview  between  the 
two  was  attended  with  the  warmest  emo 
tions  ;  and  whoever  has  seen  Sully's  por 
trait  of  the  great  French  patriot  can  form 
some  adequate  conception  of  the  chieftain's 
magnificent  bearing  on  this  occasion. 

The  announcement  of  his  arrival  sent  a 
thrill  of  joy  to  every  American  heart  and 
home,  and  the  great  pageant  of  his  recep 
tion  commenced  in  the  city  where  he  first 
set  foot  forty  years  before.  As  the  fleet 
arrived  off  the  battery  at  New  York,  a  mili 
tary  line  composed  of  thousands  of  veter 
ans  was  formed,  and  the  people,  crowding 
the  battery  and  all  the  adjacent  streets, 
swelled  the  throng  to  the  number  of  forty 
thousand.  The  patriot  was  deeply  affected 
when  he  exchanged  congratulations  with 
his  old  companions  and  friends.  Shout 
after  shout  went  up  in  long  and  loud 
acclaim,  while  the  bands  of  music  played 
a  triumphant  welcome  to  the  hero.  His 
stay  in  the  city  was  one  unbroken  succes 


sion  of  high  honors  and  civic  laudation, 
such  as  kings  might  envy  ;  at  Albany,  he 
was  received  by  Vice-President  Tompkins. 
On  proceeding  to  New  England,  the  same 
enthusiasm  was  exhibited  in  every  city, 
town,  and  village.  From  the  residence  of 
Hon.  William  Eustis,  the  governor  of 
Massachusetts,  in  Roxbury,  he  was  es 
corted  by  a  large  cavalcade  and  almost  the 
entire  population,  to  Boston,  where  a 
dense  assemblage  awaited  his  appearance. 
Arriving  at  the  line,  he  was  greeted  by 
the  mayor  of  the  city  and  the  people, 
through  whom  he  passed  in  a  superb  car 
riage,  under  deafening  cheers.  The  streets 
were  lined  with  spectators  to  the  entrance 
of  the  beautiful  common.  There,  the 
children  of  the  public  schools  formed  two 
lines,  the  girls  being  dressed  in  spotless 
white,  and  the  boys  in  white  pants  and 
blue  jackets,  and  all  wearing  appropriate 
badges.  A  little  girl  sprang  forward  from 
the  line  as  Lafayette  was  passing,  and,  at 
her  request  to  speak  to  him,  was  lifted 
into  the  carriage,  when  she  gracefully  pre 
sented  him  with  a  wreath  of  flowers,  which 
the  venerable  hero  received  with  affecting 
courtesy.  While  going  from  town  to  town, 
he  found  in  every  place  some  of  the 
descendants  of  1776,  ready  to  give  him 
the  heartiest  of  welcomes.  Thus,  when 
visiting  Marblehead,  in  Massachusetts,  the 
marquis  manifested  much  curiosity  at  so 
many  ladies  being  mingled  with  the  male 
citizens,  who  had  been  deputed  to  receive 
him.  The  spokesman  of  the  occasion, 
perceiving  the  pleasant  surprise  of  the 
marquis  at  this  peculiar  feature,  said  to 
him — 

"  These  are  the  widows  of  those  who 
perished  in  the  revolutionary  war,  and  the 
mothers  of  children  for  whose  liberty  you, 
illustrious  sir  !  have  contended  in  the  field 
of  battle.  They  are  now  here  in  the 
places  of  their  husbands,  many  of  whom 
were  once  known  to  you." 

It  may  here  be  remarked,  that  Marble- 
head  was  the  "banner  town"  for  furnish 
ing  soldiers,  in  the  revolutionary  war, 
there  being  a  larger-  proportion  to  the 
whole  number  of  inhabitants  from  that 


GREAT     AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


277 


town  than  any  other  place  in  the  United 
States.  The  British  armed  vessels  hover 
ing  on  the  coast  destroyed  the  coasting 
and  fishing  business,  and  thus  the  loss  of 
men  in  the  war  fell  heavily  upon  the  small 
seaport  towns ;  for,  being  out  of  employ 
ment,  nearly  all  the  young  and  old  men 
shouldered  their  muskets  and  joined  the 
army. 

At  Philadelphia  he  was  welcomed  with 
almost  idolizing  enthusiasm ;  for  tender 
and  thrilling  indeed  were  the  associations 
which  linked  together  the  history  of  the 
past  and  present  of  that  city,  in  the  person 
and  services  of  Lafayette  ;  the  hospitali 
ties  of  the  state  were  appropriately  dis 
pensed  by  Governor  Shultze.  On  landing 
at  Baltimore,  he  was  conducted  to  the 
'  tent  of  Washington,'  and  the  freedom  of 
the  state  and  city  conferred  upon  him  in 
an  address  by  Governor  Stevens.  For 
some  time  Lafayette  could  not  precisely 
understand  the  compliment  conveyed  in 
the  selection  of  the  tent — especially  one  of 
that  construction  —  for 
such  proceedings.  It 
was  soon  made  plain, 
however,  for,  glancing 
around,  he  recognized 
a  portion  of  Wash  in  g- 


LAFAYETTE'S    RESIDENCE. 


ton's  personal  equipage 
during  the  war ;  and 
turning  to  one  near 


him,  he  said,  in  a  voice  tremulous  with  emo 
tion,  "/  remember!"  Proceeding  to 
Washington,  Lafayette  was  received  with 
open  arms  by  President  Monroe,  at  the 
executive  mansion.  Congress  had  just 
assembled  in  regular  session,  at  the  capitol. 
He  was  introduced  to  both  houses,  and  was 
formally  and  elegantly  addressed  by  Mr. 
Clay,  speaker  of  the  house  of  representa 
tives,  the  two  branches  unanimously  unit 
ing  in  their  legislative  honors  to  the 
nation's  guest.  At  this  session  the  sum 
of  two  hundred  thousand  dollars,  together 
with  a  township,  consisting  of  twenty- 
four  thousand  acres  of  fertile  land,  was 
voted  b}7  congress  to  General  Lafa}7ette,  as 
an  expression  of  the  grateful  memory  with 
which  the  people  of  America  regarded  his 
services  in  their  behalf.  A  few  of  the 
members  felt  themselves  constrained,  from 
some  doubts  respecting  its  constitution 
ality,  to  vote  against  this  appropriation. 
Lafayette,  taking  one  of  them  by  the 
hand,  said  to  him  with  considerable  feel 
ing: 

"  I    appreciate    your  views.     If  I   had 
been  a  member,  I  should  have  voted  with 
you,  not  only  because  I  partake  of  the  sen 
timents  which  determined  your  votes,  but 
also  because  I  think  that    the   American 
nation  has  done  too  much  for  me." 
Most  characteristic  of  Lafayette's 
disinterestedness    and  magnanim 
ity  was  that  remark  ! 

At   this  time,   Governor  Pleas 
ant  was    chief  magistrate    of  the 
'  Old  Dominion,'  and  warmly  wel 
comed      the      na- 
tion's  guest.   The 
emotions     experi 
enced   by   Lafa}r- 
ette,   as   he   once 
more  trod  the  bat 
tle-fields    of   Vir 
ginia,    can    of 
course   hardly  be 
described.     York- 
town,  distinguish 
ed     for     the    surrender     of     Cornwallis, 
which    event     gave     the     finishing    blow 
to     the     war,     presented     a     vast     field 


278 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


of  tents  at  the  reception  of  Lafayette. 
The  same  house  occupied  by  Cormvallis,  as 
his  head-quarters  in  1781,  was  still  stand 
ing.  The  general  appearance  of  the  place 
gave  evidence  of  a  deserted  village.  The 
houses  of  yore,  which  had  been  riddled 
with  balls  and  blackened  with  smoke,  still 
retained  the  marks  of  battle.  In  many 
parts  of  the  ground  were  seen  broken 
shells,  and  gun-carriages,  with  various 
implements  of  war, — some  on  rocks,  and 
others  half  buried  in  the  earth ;  every 
arrangement  having  been  made  to  give  the 
town,  on  Lafayette's  arrival,  the  appear 
ance  of  a  place  taken  and  occupied  after  a 
severe  contest  in  battle.  One  of  the  tents 
erected  on  this  occasion,  was  the  one  used 
by  Washington  at  the  time  of  the  siege, 
together  with  others  which  had  furnished 
temporary  apartments  for  weary  soldiers 
during  the  eventful  campaign.  An  arch, 
bearing  the  names  of  Lafayette,  Hamilton, 
and  Laurens,  was  erected  on  the  very  spot 
where  the  redoubt  stood  which  was  stormed 
by  Lafayette  ;  an  obelisk  was  also  erected, 
bearing  the  names  of  distinguished  French 
men.  And  on  the  same  spot  it  is  said 
that  the  orator  of  the  occasion  was  design 
ing,  at  the  close  of  his  address,  to  place  a 
blended  civic  crown  and  national  wreath 
in  honor  of  Lafayette,  who,  while  he 
acknowledged  the  unique  compliment, 
gracefully  averted  its  consummation,  and, 
taking  the  symbolic  garland  in  his  hand, 
called  for  Colonel  Fish,  the  only  survivor 
of  the  attack  upon  the  redoubt,  and 
declared  that  half  the  honor  belonged  to 
him.  Washington's  marquee  was  erected 
on  the  plain,  just  out  of  the  village.  Be 
ing  escorted  to  this  tent,  Lafayette  gave 
an  affecting  welcome  to  the  officers  of  the 
militia.  Two  old  veterans  were  there,  who 
had  faced  the  enemy  in  war,  and  stood  firm 
in  the  midst  of  the  roar  of  the  cannon  ; 
but  as  they  pressed  the  hand  of  Lafayette 
on  this  occasion,  the  old  heroes  wept  and 
fainted.  Some  of  the  servants  who  were 
present  discovered  in  an  obscure  corner  of 
a  cellar  a  large  box  of  candles,  bearing 
marks  of  belonging  to  Cornwallis's  military 
stores — having  remained  undisturbed  for 


forty-three  years.  They  were  lighted  for 
the  evening,  and  notwithstanding  the 
fatigues  of  the  day,  some  of  the  old  soldiers 
remained  till  the  last  vestige  of  these  Brit 
ish  candles  had  expired  in  the  sockets. 

Taking  Camden,  South  Carolina — Gov 
ernor  Richard  J.  Manning, — in  his  tour, 
Lafayette  assisted  in  laying  the  corner 
stone  of  a  monument  erected  to  the  name 
and  memory  of  Baron  de  Kalb,  a  German 
by  birth,  who  came  over  in  the  same  vessel 
with  Lafayette,  in  1776,  and  volunteered 
his  services  in  the  American  army  for 
three  years.  He  fell  while  bravely  en 
gaged  in  the  battle  at  Camden,  pierced 
with  eleven  deadly  wounds.  It  is  said 
that  Washington,  visiting  the  baron's 
grave  many  years  after  his  death,  sighed 
as  he  looked  upon  it,  and  exclaimed, 
"There  lies  the  brave  De  Kalb,  the  gener 
ous  stranger,  who  came  from  a  distant 
land  to  fight  our  battles,  and  to  water  with 
his  blood  the  tree  of  Liberty.  Would  to 
God  he  had  lived  to  share  with  us  in  its 
fruits  !  "  At  Savannah,  Georgia,  after 
being  welcomed  by  Governor  Troup,  Lafay 
ette  united  in  the  same  service  commemor 
ative  of  Generals  Greene  and  Pulaski. 
On  the  seventeenth  of  June,  Lafayette 
witnessed  the  laying  of  the  corner-stone  of 
Bunker  Hill  monument,  at  Charlestown, 
Massachusetts;  he  was  the  only  surviving 
major-general  of  the  revolution  who  was 
present  at  this  ceremony.  Colonel  Francis 
K.  Huger  participated  in  the  patriotic 
services — the  man  who,  when  a  lad,  walked 
with  Lafayette  over  his  father's  grounds, 
and  who,  some  thirty  years  before  this 
seventeenth  of  June,  risked  his  life  in 
attempting  to  aid  the  escape  of  Lafayette 
from  the  castle  of  Olmutz.  The  people  of 
Charlestown  not  only  welcomed  Huger, 
but  gav.e  him  a  seat  by  the  side  of  Lafay 
ette,  in  the  carriage  which  moved  in  the 
procession,  and  also  one  near  him  at  the 
festive  board.  Daniel  Webster  was  the 
orator  for  the  day  ;  it  was  the  fiftieth  anni 
versary  of  the  battle;  and  everything  con 
spired  to  render  the  day  memorable.  As 
the  procession  passed,  Lafayette  was  con 
tinually  hailed  with  demonstrations  of  love 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


279 


and  gratitude.  The  procession  was  sev 
eral  miles  long,  and,  on  arriving  at  the  his 
toric  spot,  the  impressive  rite  of  laying  the 
corner-stone  was  performed  by  the  grand 
master  of  the  Freemasons,  the  president  of 


LAFAYETTE'S  BIRTHPLACE. 


the  Monument  Association,  and  General 
Lafayette,  in  the  presence  of  a  vast  con 
course  of  people.  The  assembly  then 
moved  to  a  spacious  amphitheatre,  where 
the  oration  was  pronounced  by  Mr.  Web 
ster,  before  as  great  a  multitude  as  was 
ever,  perhaps,  assembled  within  the  sound 
of  a  human  voice. 

There  was  one  place — Kaskaskia,  on  the 
route  of  Lafayette's  tour,  at  which,  though 
no  preparations  had  been  made  to  receive 
him,  he  paused  a  short  time;  and  here  it 
was  that  a  most  affecting  incident  oc 
curred.  Curiosity  induced  one  of  his  com 
panions  to  go  and  look  at  an  Indian 
encampment,  a  short  distance  from  the 
town.  He  there  met  with  an  educated 
Indian  woman,  who  spoke  the  French  lan 
guage  tolerably  well,  and  who  expressed  a 
desire  to  see  Lafayette,  and  to  show  him  a 
relic  which  she  always  carried  with  her, 
and  which  was  "very  dear  to  her."  She 
wished  to  show  it  to  Lafayette,  as  proof  of 
the  veneration  with  which  his  name  was 
regarded  among  their  tribes.  It  was  a 
letter  written  by  Lafayette  in  1778,  and 
addressed  to  her  father,  Panisciowa,  a 


chief  of  one  of  the  six  nations.  This  letter 
expressed  the  hearty  thanks  of  Lafayette 
for  the  faithful  services  of  that  chief  in  the 
American  cause.  The  name  of  this  only 
child  of  the  old  chief  was  Mary,  who,  at 
the  decease  of  her  mother,  was 
placed  under  the  care  of  an 
American  agent,  by  whom  she 
was  instructed  and  kindly  treat 
ed.  She  became  a  Christian.  As 
she  was  walking  out  in  the  for 
est,  about  five 
years  after,  an 
Indian  warrior 
overtook  her  and 
informed  her  that 
her  father  was  dy 
ing,  and  wished 
to  see  her.  She 
soon  started  off, 
traveled  all  night, 
and  in  the  morn 
ing  reached  his 
hut,  which  was 
situated  in  a  narrow  valley.  As  she  came  to 
his  bedside,  he  took  from  his  pouch  a  paper 
wrapped  in  a  dry  skin,  and  gave  it  to  her, 
with  a  charge  to  preserve  it  as  a  precious 
gift,  saying:  "It  is  a  powerful  charm  to 
interest  the  pale-faces  in  your  favor.  I 
received  it  from  a  great  French  warrior, 
whom  the  English  dreaded  as  much  as  the 
Americans  loved  him,  and  with  whom  I 
fought  in  my  youth."  The  chief  died  the 
next  day.  Mary  returned  to  her  white 
friends,  and  soon  after  married  the  young 
warrior,  who  was  her  father's  friend  and 
companion.  She  had  the  pleasure  of 
showing  the  letter  to  Lafayette,  who  rec 
ognized  it,  and  listened  with  great  respect 
and  deep  feeling  to  her  touching  story. 

Another  most  interesting  episode  was  that 
which  transpired  at  Lafayette's  reception 
in  Nashville,  Tenn.,  Governor  Carroll  pre 
siding  at  the  state  ceremonies.  There  had 
come  from  different  parts  of  the  country 
about  forty  officers  and  soldiers  of  the  rev 
olution.  Among  the  number  was  an  aged 
man  who  had  traveled  one  hundred  and 
fifty  miles.  His  name  was  Haguy,  a 
German,  and  he  was  one  of  those  who 


280 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


embarked  in  the  same  vessel  with  Lafay 
ette  for  this  country,  nearly  fifty  years 
back,  and  served  under  him  during  the 
whole  war.  The  old  veteran,  clasping 
Lafayette's  hand  with  affectionate 
warmth,  the  tears  rolling  down  his 
cheeks,  said : 

"  I  have  come  many  miles  to  see  the 
'young  general.'  I  have  had  two  happy 
days  in  my  life — one,  when  I  landed  with 
you  on  the  American  coast,  nearly  fifty 
years  ago,  and  to-day  when  I  see  your  face 
again.  I  have  lived  long  enough."  The 
sensation  produced  by  this  scene,  in  that 
great  throng,  was  for  a  time  completely 
overpowering. 

Not  less  interesting  was  the  interview, 
at  Buffalo,  between  Lafayette  and  '  Red 
Jacket,'  the  old  chief  of  the  Seneca  tribe 
of  Indians.  They  had  both  met  in  council 
at  Fort  Schuyler,  in  1784.  Red  Jacket, 
in  conversation  with  General  Lafayette, 
made  some  allusions  to  that  famous  coun 
cil,  and  to  those  who  participated  in  its 
proceedings,  when  Lafayette  inquired  with 
some  curiosity — 

"Where  is  the  young  warrior,  I  wonder, 
who  opposed  the  burying  of  the  toma 
hawk  ?  " 

"  He  is  here  before  you,"  instantly  re 
plied  the  aged  chief. 

"Ah,  I  see,"  replied  the  general,  "time 
has  changed  us.  We  were  once  young 
and  active." 

"  But,"  said  the  chief,  "  time  has  made 
less  change  on  you  than  on  me." 

Saying  this  he  uncovered  his  head,  and 
exhibited  his  entire  baldness.  The  gen 
eral  wore  a  wig,  and,  not  wishing  to 
deceive  Red  Jacket,  took  it  from  his  head, 
to  the  no  small  amusement  of  the  aston 
ished  Indian. 

A  visit  to  the  tomb  of  Washington  was 
one  of  the  most  notable  events  in  Lafay 
ette's  tour.  His  arrival  there  was  an 
nounced  by  the  firing  of  cannon,  which 
brought  to  his  memory  the  din  of  war, — 
the  scenes  of  the  revolution, —  when  he, 
with  the  great  but  now  lifeless  chieftain, 
were  side  by  side  in  battle.  Standing  for 
awhile  upon  the  consecrated  ground  and 


amidst  the  solemn  stillness  of  the  place, 
he  descended  alone  into  the  tomb  with  his 
head  uncovered.  There  he  remained  in 
solitary  contemplation  for  some  time — the 
living  aged  veteran  communing  with  the 
illustrious  dead.  He  returned  with  his 
face  bathed  in  tears,  and,  taking  his  son 
and  Levasseur,  the  secretary,  by  the  hand, 
led  them  into  the  tomb.  He  could  not 
speak,  but  pointed  mutely  to  the  coffin  of 
Washington.  They  knelt  reverently  by 
it,  kissed  it,  and,  rising,  threw  themselves 
into  the  arms  of  Lafayette,  and  for  a  few 
moments  wept  in  silence.  Lafayette  was 
now  presented,  by  the  hand  of  Mr.  Custis, 
one  of  the  surviving  family  connections  of 
Washington,  with  a  massive  finger-ring 
containing  a  portion  of  the  hair  of  his 
departed  friend.  He  was  also  the  recipi 
ent  of  some  other  personal  memorials  of 
the  "  Father  of  his  Country." 

During  this  tour  Lafayette  visited  every 
one  of  the  twenty-four  states  of  the  Union, 
and  traveled  over  five  thousand  miles.  In 
nearly  every  region  which  he  visited, 
towns  or  counties,  and  literary,  scientific 
or  civic  associations,  named  in  honor  of 
him,  still  preserve  his  memory.  Indeed, 
one  of  the  foremost  of  the  great  colleges  of 
the  Middle  states  dates  from  the  same 
period.  At  Easton,  in  Pennsylvania, 
the  citizens  convened  on  the  27th  of 
December,  1824,  and  resolved  to  estab 
lish  LAFAYETTE  COLLEGE,  an  eminent 
institution  of  learning,  in  memory  of 
and  "as  a  testimony  of  respect  for  the 
talents,  virtues  and  signal  sevices,  of 
General  Lafayette,  in  the  great  cause  of 
Freedom." 

When  the  time  which  he  had  allotted 
for  his  tour  had  expired,  Lafayette  re 
paired  to  Washington,  to  pay  his  parting 
respects  to  the  chief  magistrate  of  the 
nation,  John  Quincy  Adams,  who  had  suc 
ceeded  President  Monroe.  This  took 
place  at  the  presidential  mansion,  on  the 
sixth  of  September,  1825.  The  farewell 
address  from  the  president,  in  behalf  of 
the  whole  American  people,  was  a  most 
affecting  tribute  to  the  lofty  character  and 
patriotic  services  of  Lafayette,  during  his 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


281 


long  and  eventful  career,  and  closed  with 
the  following  words  : 

"  You  are  ours  by  that  unshaken  senti 
ment  of  gratitude  for  your  services  which 
is  a  precious  portion  of  our  inheritance  ; 
ours  by  that  tie  of  love,  stronger  than 
death,  which  has  linked  your  name  for  the 
endless  ages  of  time  with  the  name  of 
Washington.  At  the  painful  moment  of 


parting  with  you 
we    take    comfort 

•  ,!  v. 

in  the  thought 
that,  wherever  you  may  be,  to  the  last  pul 
sation  of  your  heart,  our  country  will  ever 
be  present  to  your  affections  ;  and  a  cheer 
ing  consolation  assures  us  that  we  are  not 


called  to  sorrow  —  most  of  all,  that  we 
shall  see  3-0111-  face  no  more,  —  for  we 
shall  indulge  the  pleasing  anticipation 
of  beholding  our  friend  again.  In  the 
name  of  the  whole  people  of  the  United 
States,  I  bid  }TOU  a  reluctant  and  affec 
tionate  farewell." 

To  this  parting  address  from  the  lips  of 
the  nation's  distinguished  chief  magistrate, 
Lafayette  replied  in  a  strain  of  patriotic 
and  impassioned  eloquence  never  to  be 
forgotten. 

On  the  same  day  he  embarked  for 
France,  on  board  the  Brandy  wine,  a  new 
frigate,  named 
thus  in  compli 
ment  to  Lafay 
ette,  who,  on  the 
banks  of  that  riv 
er,  was  wounded 
in  his  first  battle 
for  American 
freedom.  In  the 
whole  range  of 
history,  ancient 
or  modern,  there 
is  no  instance  of 

similar  honors  being  paid  to  any  hero,  by 
the  united  and  spontaneous  will  of  a  great 
people  ;  and  when,  nine  years  after,  he  paid 
the  debt  of  nature,  that  same  great  people 
gave  vent  to  universal  grief,  and  every 
tongue  spoke  words  of  eulogy  to  the  mem 
ory  of  America's  most  illustrious  friend. 


XXX. 

DUEL  BETWEEN   HENRY  CLAY,  SECRETARY  OF  STATE, 
AND  JOHN   RANDOLPH,  UNITED   STATES   SENA 
TOR  FROM  VIRGINIA.— 1826. 


Randolph's  Bitter  Insult  to  Clay  on  the  Floor  of  the  Senate.— Accuses  Him  of  Falsifying  an  Official 
Document. — The  Puritan  and  "  Blackleg "  Taunt. — Clay  Challenges  the  Senator  to  Mortal  Com 
bat. — Words  and  Acts  of  these  Two  Foremost  Men  of  their  Times,  on  the  "  Field  of  Honor." — 
Result  of  the  Hostile  Meeting. — Fame  of  these  Party  Leaders.— Ancient  Political  Antagonists  — 
Origin  of  the  Present  Dispute. — Randolph's  Gift  of  Sarcasm. — Applies  it  Severely  to  Clay. — Clay 
Demands  Satisfaction. — Reconciliation  Refused. — Bladensburg  the  Dueling-Ground. — Pistols  the 
Weapons  Chosen  — Colonel  Benton  a  Mutual  Friend. —  Incidents  the  Night  Before. — Randolph's 
Secret  Resolve  — Going  to  the  Field  of  Blood. — View  of  this  Shrine  of  "  Chivalry." — Salutations  of 
the  Combatants. — Solemn  Interest  of  the  Scene  — Distance  Ten  Paces. — A  Harmless  Exchange  of 
Shots.— Clay  Calls  it  "Child's  Play  !  "—Another  Fire. — No  Injury. — "Honor"  Satisfied —Pleasant 
Talk  with  Each  Other. 


*  I  would  not  have  teen  him  fall  mortally,  or  tren  doubtfully,  wounded,  for  all  the  land  that  if  watered  hy  the  King  of  Floods  and  all 
hii  tributary  streams."— RANDOLPH  TO  BKHTO.X. 

• '  I  truit  in  Uod,  my  dear  air,  you  arc  untouched  i  after  what  has  occurred,  I  would  not  have  harmed  you  for  a  thousand  worldi."— 
CLAT  TO  RAMDULPU 


T  would  be  needless,  at  this  point  of  time,  to  recount 
the  circumstances  of   that  long  and  bitter  antago- 
^  nism  which  characterized  the  relations,  in  political 
|  life,    between    the    renowned    and   eccentric  John 
Randolph    and    the   equally   famous   and   brilliant 
Henry  Clay.     This  antagonism,  after  the  accession 
to  the  department  of  state  by  Mr.  Clay,  under  the 
presidency  of  John   Quincy   Adams,  acquired  addi 
tional  violence,  and  finally  led  to  a  hostile  encoun 
ter,  under  the  following  circumstances :     The  presi- 

OF  THE  "CODE  OF  HONOR."  dent  had  sent  in  a  message  to  the  senate,  on  the 
subject  of  the  Panama  mission.  A  motion  was  made  in  the  senate  for  a  call  upon  the 
president  for  further  information.  In  response  to  this  the  president  answered  by  a 
message,  with  the  tone  of  which  Randolph  was  greatly  displeased,  and,  in  his  place  in 
the  senate,  bitterly  denounced  it  and  its  authors,  President  Adams  and  his  secretary, 
Mr.  Clay.  Alluding  to  one  passage  in  particular,  in  the  president's  message,  Randolph 
was  reported  as  saying:  "Here  I  plant  my  foot;  here  I  fling  defiance  right  into  his 
teeth  ;  here  I  throw  the  gauntlet  to  him,  and  the  bravest  of  his  compeers,  to  come 
forward  and  defend  these  lines."  And  he  concluded  his  speech  with  the  sentence  : 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


283 


"I  was  defeated,  horse,  foot,  and  dragoons 
— cut  up,  clean  broke  down  by  the  coali 
tion  of  Bliiil  and  Black  George — by  the 
combination  unheard  of  till  then,  of  the 
Puritan  with  the  Blackley"  But,  what 
was  most  pointed,  perhaps,  than  anything 
else,  in  this  assault  upon  Mr.  Clay's  honor, 
was  Randolph's  statement,  "  that  a  letter 
from  General  Salazar,  the  Mexican  min 
ister  at  Washington,  submitted  by  the 
executive  to  the  senate,  bore  the  ear-mark 
of  having  been  manufactured  or  forged  by 
the  secretary  of  state." 

Mr.  Clay  smarted  under  the  stigma  of 
these  charges.  He  demanded  explana 
tions.  These  being  refused,  Clay  at  once 
sent  a  challenge,  which  Randolph  accepted. 
The  seconds,  however,  chosen  by  the  dis 
tinguished  principals,  determined  to  at 
tempt  an  accommodation,  or  a  peaceable 
termination  of  the  difficulty.  But  Ran 
dolph,  though  modifying  the  unrevised 
and  somewhat  inaccurate  report  of  his 
speech  which  had  gone  forth,  refused  to 
explain,  out  of  the  senate,  the  words  he 
had  used  within  it.  Clay  was  peremptory 
with  Randolph,  on  the  point  of  honor,  as 
he  had  also  been  with  Humphrey  Mar 
shall,  in  1808,  whom  the  brilliant  Ken- 
tuckian  challenged  and  fought.  Though 
bad  enough,  both  personally  and  politically, 
these  duels  of  the  great  Kentuckian  will 
at  least  compare  favorably  with  the  later 
duel  between  Graves  of  Kentucky,  and 
Cilley  of  Maine,  in  which  Webb,  the  New 
York  journalist,  bore  so  prominent  a  part. 

It  being  certain  that  there  was  no  hope 
of  reconciliation,  the  seconds  proceeded  to 
arrange  for  the  duel.  The  afternoon  of 
Saturday,  April  eighth,  1826,  was  fixed 
upon  for  the  time, — the  right  bank  of  the 
Potomac,  within  the  state  of  Virginia, 
above  the  Little  Falls  bridge,  was  the 
place, — pistols  the  weapons,  distance  ten 
paces, — each  party  to  be  attended  by  two 
seconds  and  a  surgeon,  and  Senator  Ben- 
ton  to  be  present  as  a  mutual  friend. 
There  was  to  be  no  practicing  with  pistols, 
and  there  was  none;  and  the  words,  '  One, 
two,  three, — stop,'  after  the  word  '  Fire,' 
were,  by  agreement  between  the  seconds 


and  for  the  humane  purpose  of  reducing 
the  result  as  near  as  possible  to  chance,  to 
be  given  out  in  quick  succession.  The 
Virginia  side  of  the  Potomac  was  taken, 
according  to  Mr.  Benton's  account  of  the 
duel,  at  the  instance  of  Mr.  Randolph. 
He  went  out  as  a  Virginia  senator,  refus 
ing  to  compromise  that  character,  and,  if 
he  fell  in  defense  of  \vhat  he  deemed  to 
be  its  rights,  Virginia  soil  was  to  him  the 
chosen  ground  to  receive  his  blood.  There 
was  a  statute  of  the  state  against  dueling 
within  her  limits  ;  but  as  he  merely  went 
out  to  receive  a  fire  without  returning  it 
he  deemed  that  no  fighting,  and  conse 
quently  no  breach  of  her  statute. 

The  week's  delay,  which  the  seconds 
had  contrived,  was  about  expiring.  It  was 
Friday  night,  when  Mr  Benton  went  to 
see  Mr.  Clay  for  the  last  time  before  the 
duel.  There  had  been  some  alienation 
between  the  two  since  the  time  of  the 
presidential  election  in  the  house  of  repre 
sentatives,  and  the  senator  desired  to  show 
Mr.  Clay  that  there  was  nothing  personal 
in  it.  The  family  (says  Mr.  Benton)  were 
in  the  parlor, —  company  present, —  and 
some  of  it  staid  late.  The  youngest  child 
went  to  sleep  on  the  sofa, — a  circumstance 
which  availed  me  for  the  next  day.  Mrs. 
Clay  was,  as  alwaj-s  after  the  death  of  her 
daughters,  the  picture  of  desolation,  but 
calm,  conversable,  and  without  the  slight 
est  apparent  consciousness  of  the  impend 
ing  event.  When  all  were  gone,  and  she 
also  had  left  the  parlor,  I  did  what  I  came 
for,  and  said  to  Mr.  Clay  that,  notwith 
standing  our  late  political  differences,  my 
personal  feelings  were  the  same  towards 
him  as  formerly,  and  that,  in  whatever 
concerned  his  life  or  honor,  my  best  wishes 
were  with  him.  He  expressed  his  gratifi 
cation  at  the  visit  and  the  declaration,  and 
said  it  was  what  he  would  have  expected 
of  me.  We  parted  at  midnight. 

Mr.  Benton's  account  continues  as  fol 
lows :  Saturday,  the  8th  of  April,  1826, 
— the  day  for  the  duel, — had  come,  and 
almost  the  hour.  It  was  noon,  and  the 
meeting  was  to  take  place  at  half-past  four 
o'clock.  I  had  gone  to  see  Mr.  Randolph 


284 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


before  the  hour,  and  for  a  purpose.  I  had 
heard  nothing  from  him  on  the  point  of 
not  returning  the  fire,  since  the  first  com 
munication  to  that  effect,  eight  days  be 
fore.  I  had  no  reason  to  doubt  the  steadi 
ness  of  his  determination ;  but  felt  a 
desire  to  have  some  fresh  assurance  of  it 
after  so  many  days'  delay,  and  so  near 
approach  of  the  trying  moment.  I  knew 
it  would  not  do  to  ask  him  the  question, — 
any  question  that  would  imply  a  doubt  of 
his  word.  So  I  fell  upon  a  scheme  to  get 
at  the  inquiry  without  seeming  to  make 
it.  I  told  him  of  my  visit  to  Mrs.  Clay 
the  night  before, — of  the  late  sitting, — the 
child  asleep, — the  unconscious  tranquillity 


of  Mrs.  Clay;  and  added,  T  could  not  help 
reflecting  how  different  all  that  might  be 
the  next  night.  He  understood  me  per 
fectly,  and  immediately  said,  with  a 
quietude  of  look  and  expression  which 
seemed  to  rebuke  an  unworthy  doubt, — 

"  I  shall  do  nothing  to  disturb  the  sleep 
of  the  child  or  the,  repose  of  the  mother." 

Mr.  Randolph  at  the  same  time  went 
on  with  his  employment  —  his  seconds 


being  engaged  in  their  preparations  in  a 
different  room, — which  was,  making  codi 
cils  to  his  will,  all  in  the  way  of  remem 
brance  to  friends  ;  the  bequests  slight  in 
value,  but  invaluable  in  tenderness  of 
feeling  and  beauty  of  expression,  and 
always  appropriate  to  the  receiver.  To 
Mr.  Macon,  he  gave  some  English  shil 
lings,  to  keep  the  game  when  he  played 
whist.  His  namesake,  John  Randolph 
Bryan,  then  at  school  in  Baltimore,  and 
afterwards  married  to  his  niece,  was  sent 
for  to  see  him,  but  sent  off  before  the  hour 
for  going  out,  to  save  the  boy  from  a  pos 
sible  shock  of  seeing  him  brought  back. 
He  wanted  some  gold, — that  coin  not 
being  then  in  circulation,  and  only  to  be 
obtained  by  favor  or  purchase, — and  sent 
his  faithful  man,  Johnny,  to  the  United 
States  Branch  Bank,  to  get  a  few  pieces, — 
American  being  the  kind  asked  for. 
Johnny  returned  without  the  gold,  and 
delivered  the  excuse  that  the  bank  had 
none.  Instantly  his  clear  silver-toned 
voice  was  heard  above  its  natural  pitch, 
exclaiming:  "Their  name  is  legion  !  and 
they  are  liars  from  the  beginning.  Johnny, 
bring  me  my  horse."  His  own  saddle- 
horse  was  brought  him,  for  he  never  rode 
Johnny's,  nor  Johnny  his,  though  both, 
and  all  his  hundred  horses,  were  of  the 
finest  English  blood;  and  he  rode  off  to 
the  bank,  down  Pennsylvania  avenue, 
Johnny  following,  as  always,  forty  paces 
behind.  Arrived  at  the  bank,  the  follow 
ing  scene  transpired.  Mr.  Randolph  asked 
for  the  state  of  his  account,  was  shown  it, 
and  found  it  to  be  some  four  thousand  dol 
lars  in  his  favor.  He  asked  for  it.  The 
teller  took  up  packages  of  bills,  and  civilly 
asked  in  what  sized  notes  he  would  have 
it.  "  I  want  money"  said  Mr.  Randolph, 
putting  emphasis  on  the  word  ;  and  at  that 
time  it  required  a  bold  man  to  intimate 
that  United  States  Bank  notes  were  not 
money.  The  teller,  beginning  to  under 
stand  him,  and  willing  to  make  sure,  said, 
inquiringly  : 

"You  want  silver?" 

"I  want  my  money,"  was  the  reply. 

"Have   you   a   cart,   Mr.  Randolph,  to 


GEEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


285 


put  it  in  ?  "  said  the  teller,  politely,  lifting 
boxes  to  the  counter. 

"  That  is  my  business,  sir,"  answered 
Randolph. 

By  this  time,  the  attention  of  the  cashier 
was  attracted  to  what  was  going  on,  who 
came  up,  and,  understanding  the  question 
and  its  cause,  told  Mr.  Randolph  there 
was  a  mistake  in  the  answer  given  to  his 
servant ;  that  they  had  gold,  and  he  should 
have  what  he  wanted.  In  fact,  he  had 
only  applied  for  a  few  pieces,  which  he 
wanted  for  a  special  purpose.  This  brought 
about  a  compromise.  The  pieces  of  gold 
were  received,  —  the  cart  and  the  silver 
dispensed  with. 

On  returning,  Randolph  handed  a  sealed 
paper  to  Mr.  Benton,  which  the  latter  was 
to  open  in  case  Randolph  was  killed, — 
give  back  to  him  if  he  was  not ;  also 
an  open  slip,  which  that  senator  was  to 
read  before  he  got  to  the  ground.  This 
slip  was  a  request  to  feel  in  his  left 
breeches'  pocket,  if  he  was  killed,  and  find 
so  many  pieces  of  gold, — Mr.  Benton  to 
take  three  for  himself,  and  give  the  same 
number  to  Tatnall  and  Hamilton  each,  to 
make  seals  to  wear  in  remembrance  of  him. 
He  also  remembered  his  friend  Macon. 
They  were  all  three  at  Mr.  Randolph's 
lodgings,  then,  and  soon  set  out, — Mr. 
Randolph  and  his  seconds  in  a  carriage, 
and  Mr.  Benton  following  him  on  horse 
back. 

As  has  already  been  stated,  the  count 
was  to  be  quick  after  giving  the  word  '  Fire,' 
and  for  a  reason  which  could  not  be  told 
to  the  principals.  To  Mr.  Randolph,  who 
did  not  mean  to  fire,  and  who,  though 
agreeing  to  be  shot  at,  had  no  desire  to  be 
hit,  this  rapidity  of  counting  out  the  time, 
and  quick  arrival  of  the  command  '  Stop,' 
presented  no  objection.  With  Mr.  Clay 
it  was  different.  With  him  it  was  all  a 
real  transaction,  and  gave  rise  to  some 
proposal  for  more  deliberateness  in  count 
ing  off  the  time,  which  being  communicated 
to  Colonel  Tatnall,  (Randolph's  friend,) 
and  by  him  to  Mr.  Randolph,  had  an  ill 
effect  upon  his  feelings,  and,  aided  by  an 
untoward  accident  on  the  ground,  unset 


tled  for  a  moment  the  noble  determination 
which  he  had  formed  not  to  fire  at  Mr. 
Clay.  General  Jesup  (Clay's  friend,) 
states,  that,  when  he  repeated  to  Mr.  Clay 
the  'word'  in  the  manner  in  which  it 
would  be  given,  Mr.  Clay  expressed  some 
apprehension  that,  as  he  was  not  accus 
tomed  to  the  use  of  the  pistol,  he  might 
not  be  able  to  fire  within  the  time,  and 
for  that  reason  alone  desired  that  it  might 
be  prolonged.  This  desire  of  Mr.  Clay 
was  mentioned,  on  his  behalf,  to  Colonel 
Tatnall,  who  replied,  "If  you  insist  upon 
it,  the  time  must  be  prolonged,  but  I  should 
very  much  regret  it."  The  original  agree 
ment  was  carried  out.  Mr.  Benton,  how 
ever,  states  that  he  himself  knew  nothing 
of  all  this,  until  it  was  too  late  to  speak 
with  the  seconds  or  principals,  he  having 
crossed  the  Little  Falls  bridge  just  after 
them,  and  come  to  the  place  where  the  serv 
ants  and  carriages  had  stopped.  He  saw 
none  of  the  gentlemen,  and  supposed  they 
had  all  gone  to  the  spot  where  the  ground 
was  being  marked  off;  but  on  speaking  to 
Johnny,  Mr.  Randolph,  who  was  still  in 
his  carriage,  and  heard  the  voice,  looked 
out  from  the  window  and  said  to  Colonel 
Benton — 

"  Colonel,  since  I  saw  you,  and  since  I 
have  been  in  this  carriage,  I  have  heard 
something  which  may  make  me  change 
my  determination.  Colonel  Hamilton  will 
give  you  a  note  which  will  explain  it." 

Colonel  Hamilton  was  then  in  the  car 
riage,  and  in  the  course  of  the  evening 
gave  to  Colonel  Benton  the  note,  of  which 
Mr.  Randolph  spoke.  Colonel  Benton 
readily  comprehended  that  this  possible 
change  of  determination  related  to  Ran 
dolph's  firing ;  but  the  emphasis  with 
which  he  pronounced  the  word  '  may,' 
clearly  showed  that  his  mind  was  unde 
cided,  and  left  it  doubtful  whether  he 
would  fire  or  not.  No  further  conversa 
tion,  however,  took  place  between  them — 
the  preparations  for  the  duel  were  finished 
— the  parties  went  to  their  places. 

The  place  was  a  thick  forest,  and  the 
immediate  spot  a  little  depression,  or 
basin,  in  which  the  parties  stood.  Not 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


far  west  of  Bladensburg,  just  beyond  the 
line  which  separates  the  federal  city  from 
the  state  of  Maryland,  a  short  distance  off 
the  road  from  Washington,  is  this  dueling- 
ground, — a  dingle,  embosomed  in  a  sun 
burnt  amphitheatre  of  trees,  secluded,  and 
from  associations,  no  less  than  location,  a 
dismal  shrine,  consecrated  to  human  sacri 
fices.  On  this  spot,  not  long  before  the 
battle  of  Bladensburg  in  the  second  war 
with  England,  a  United  States  secretary 
of  the  treasury  shot  his  antagonist,  Mr. 
Gardenier,  through  the  body,  both  mem 
bers  of  congress,  in  a  party  duel.  Deca- 
tur,  surrounded  by  brother  naval  officers, 
fell  there.  A  senator  of  the  United  States 
lost  his  life  there,  horribly  fighting  with 
muskets  at  pistol  distance.  Other  vic 
tims  to  the  vanity  of  honor,  so  called,  have 
lost  or  staked  their  lives  on  this  field  of 
blood. 

But  never  before,  on  that  fatal  field, 
was  any  scene  enacted,  comparable  with 
that  which  was  to  witness  a  mortal  con 
test  between  Henry  Clay  and  John  Ran 
dolph.  Not  too  highly  has  the  graphic 
delineator  of  these  dram  at  is  persona-  (Mr. 
Baldwin,  in  his  "Party  Leaders,")  drawn 
the  picture,  in  saying  that  there  stood  on 
the  banks  of  the  Potomac,  on  that  bright 
April  evening,  as  the  sun  ivas  declining 
behind  the  high  Itills  of  Virginia,  in  the 
attitude  of  combatants,  two  men,  around 
whom  gathered,  probably,  a  more  stirring 
interest,  than  around  any  other  two  men 
in  the  Union.  And  yet,  their  political 
opinions  and  personal  history  were  as 
opposite  as  their  persons,  when  they  stood 
in  their  places.  Against  any  and  all 
insinuations  of  corruption,  Mr.  Clay  might 
safely  have  left  his  reputation  with  the 
people.  His  splendid  services  as  peace 
commissioner  to  Europe,  with  such  col 
leagues  as  Bayard,  Gallatin,  Russell  and 
Adams  ;  his  long  period  of  statesman-like 
service  in  the  house  of  representatives, 
succeeding  repeatedly  to  the  chair  that 
had  been  dignified  by  Muhlenberg,  Trurn- 
bull,  Dayton,  Varnum,  Cheves,  and  Bar- 
bour, — this  his  record  should  have  suf 
ficed  for  his  honor. 


The  two  were  alike  only  in  chivalry  of 
bearing,  integrity  and  independence  of 
character,  genius  and  pride.  They  had 
to  all  appearance  met  now  to  fight  to  the 
death  with  physical  weapons,  as  they  had 
met  so  often  before,  to  do  battle  with  the 
weapons  of  intellectual  warfare.  Their 
opposition  had  been  unceasing.  Each 
looked  upon  the  other  as,  if  not  the  ablest, 
at  least  as  the  most  annoying  and  dreaded 
opponent  of  his  political  principles  and 
personal  aims.  The}'  were,  in  early  life, 
and  to  some  extent,  still,  representatives 


of  different  phases  of  American  society. 
Randolph,  born  to  affluence  ;  descended 
from  a  long  and  honored  line  ;  accustomed 
always  to  wealth,  family  influence,  and  the 
pride  of  aristocracy  and  official  position. 
Clay,  on  the  other  hand,  born  in  obscurity, 
of  humble  parentage — the  first  man  of  his 
family  known  out  of  his  county — athe 
mill-boy  of  the  Slashes;"  but  winning 
his  way  and  rising  rapidly,  by  his  boldness 
and  talents,  to  the  very  summit  of  public 
station  and  influence,  so  as  to  be  styled 
the  "Great  Commoner;" — these  were  the 
two  men,  alike  in  splendid  gifts  of  intel 
lect,  yet  so  unlike  in  character  and  circum 
stance,  who  now,  weapon  in  hand,  stood 
opposed  in  deadly  conflict. 

As   they  took   their  stands,  the  princi- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


287 


pals  saluted  each  other  courteously,  accord 
ing  to  the  xisage  of  the  '  code.'  Colonel 
Tutnall  had  won  the  choice  of  position, 
which  gave  to  General  Jesup  the  delivery 
of  the  word.  They  stood  on  a  line  east 
and  west ;  there  was  a  small  stump  just 
behind  Mr.  Clay,  and  a  low  gravelly  bank 
rose  just  behind  Mr.  Randolph.  The 
latter  asked  General  Jesup  to  repeat  the 
word  as  he  would  give  it;  and  while  in 
the  act  of  doing  so,  and  Mr.  Randolph 
adjusting  the  butt  of  his  pistol  to  his 
hand,  the  muzzle  pointing  downwards,  and 
almost  to  the  ground,  it  fired.  Instantly 
Mr.  Randolph  turned  to  Colonel  Tatnall, 
and  said,  "  I  protested  against  that  hair 
trigger." 

Colonel  Tatnall  took  blame  to  himself 
for  having  sprung  the  hair.  Mr.  Clay 
had  not  then  received  his  pistol.  Mr. 
Johnson,  one  of  his  seconds,  was  earning 
it  to  him,  and  still  several  steps  from  him. 
This  untimely  fire,  though  clearly  an  acci 
dent,  necessarily  gave  rise  to  some  re 
marks,  and  a  species  of  inquiry,  which 
wras  conducted  with  the  utmost  delicacy, 
but  which,  in  itself,  was  of  a  nature  to  be 
inexpressibly  painful  to  a  gentleman's 
feelings.  Mr.  Clay  stopped  it  with  the 
generous  remark  that  the  fire  was  clearly 
an  accident,  and  it  was  so  unanimously 
declared.  Another  pistol  was  immediately 
furnished ;  an  exchange  of  shots  took 
place,  and,  happily,  without  effect  upon 
the  persons.  Mr.  Randolph's  bullet  struck 
the  stump  behind  Mr.  Clay,  and  Mr.  Clay's 
knocked  up  the  earth  and  gravel  behind 
Mr.  Randolph,  and  in  a  line  with  the  level 
of  his  hips,  both  bullets  having  gone  so 
true  and  close,  that  it  was  a  marvel  how 
they  missed. 

The  moment  had  now  arrived  when 
Colonel  Benton  felt  that  he  could  inter 
pose.  He  accordingly  went  in  among  the 
parties,  and  offered  his  mediation.  Noth 
ing,  however,  could  be  done.  Mr.  Clay 
said,  with  that  wave  of  the  hand  with 
which  he  was  accustomed  to  put  away  a 
trifle,  "  This  is  child's  play  !"  and  required 
another  fire.  Mr.  Randolph  also  demanded 
another  fire.  The  seconds  were  directed 


to  reload.  While  this  was  doing,  Colonel 
Benton  prevailed  on  Mr.  Randolph  to 
walk  away  from  his  post,  and  importuned 
him,  more  pressingly  than  ever,  to  yield  to 
some  accommodation.  The  colonel  found 
him,  however,  more  determined  than  ever 
before,  and  for  the  first  time  impatient, 
and  seemingly  annoyed  and  dissatisfied  at 
such  approaches.  The  accidental  fire  of 
his  pistol  preyed  upon  his  feelings.  He 
was  doubly  chagrined  at  it,  both  as  a  cir 
cumstance  susceptible  in  itself  of  an  unfair 
interpretation,  and  as  having  been  the 
immediate  and  controlling  cause  of  his  fir 
ing  at  Mr.  Clay.  He  regretted  this  fire 
the  instant  it  was  over.  He  felt  that  it 
had  subjected  him  to  imputations  from 
which  he  knew  himself  to  be  free, —  a 
desire  to  kill  Mr.  Clay,  and  a  contempt  for 
the  laws  of  his  state;  and  the  annoyances 
which  he  felt  at  these  vexatious  circum 
stances  revived  his  original  determination, 
and  decided  him  irrevocably  to  carry  it 
out. 

It  was  in  this  interval  that  Mr.  Ran 
dolph  told  Colonel  Benton  what  he  had 
heard  since  they  parted,  and  to  which  he 
alluded  when  speaking  from  the  window 
of  the  carriage.  It  was  to  this  effect : 
that  he  had  been  informed  by  Colonel 
Tatnall,  that  it  was  proposed  to  give  out 
the  words  with  more  deliberateness,  so  as 
to  prolong  the  time  for  taking  aim.  This 
information  grated  harshly  upon  his 
feelings.  It  unsettled  his  purpose, 
and  brought  his  mind  to  the  inquiry 
expressed  in  the  following  note,  which 
he  had  immediately  written  in  pencil, 
to  apprise  Colonel  Benton  of  his  possible 
change : 

"  Information  received  from  Colonel 
Tatnall  since  I  got  into  the  carriage  may 
induce  me  to  change  my  mind  of  not 
returning  Mr.  Clay's  fire.  I  seek  not  his 
death.  I  would  not  have  his  blood  upon 
my  hands — it  will  not  be  upon  my  soul  if 
shed  in  self-defense— for  the  world.  He 
has  determined,  by  the  use  of  a  long,  pre 
paratory  caution  by  words,  to  get  time  to 
kill  me.  May  I  not,  then,  disable  him  ? 
Yes,  if  I  please." 


288 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


According  to  the  statement  of  General 
Jesup,  already  given,  this  'information' 
was  a  misapprehension,  Mr.  Clay  not  hav 
ing  applied  for  a  prolongation  of  time  for 
the  purpose  of  getting  sure  aim,  but  only 
to  enable  his  unused  hand,  long  unfa 
miliar  with  the  pistol,  to  fire  within  the 
limited  time.  There  was  no  prolongation, 
in  fact,  either  granted  or  insisted  upon; 
but  Mr.  Randolph  was  in  doubt,  and  Gen 
eral  Jesup  having  won  the  word,  he  was 
having  him  repeat  it  in  the  way  he  was 
to  give  it  out,  when  his  finger  touched  the 
hair  trigger.  The  inquiry,  '  May  I  not 
disable  him?'  was  still  on  Mr.  Randolph's 
mind,  and  dependent  for  its  solution  on 
the  rising  incidents  of  the  moment,  when 
the  accidental  fire  of  his  pistol,  gave  the 
turn  to  his  feelings  which  solved  the 


was  to  disable  him,  and  spoil  his  aim. 
And  then  he  added,  with  the  deepest  feel 
ing— 

"  I  would  not  have  seen  him  fall  mor 
tally,  or  even  doubtfully,  u'ounded,  for  all 
the  land  that  is  watered  by  the  Kiinj  of 
Floods  and  all  Jiis  tributary  stream*" 

Saying  this,  Mr.  Randolph  left  Colonel 
Benton  to  resume  his  post,  utterly  refusing 
to  explain  out  of  the  senate  anything  that 
he  had  said  in  it,  and  with  the  positive 
declaration  that  he  would  not  return  the 
next  fire.  Colonel  Benton  concludes  his 
reminiscences  of  this  most  remarkable 
affair,  as  follows:  I  withdrew  a  little  way 
into  the  woods,  and  kept  my  eyes  fixed 
upon  Mr.  Randolph,  whom  I  then  knew  to 
be  the  only  one  in  danger.  I  saw  him 
receive  the  fire  of  Mr.  Clay,  saw  the 


^•tsv^SSS?^  •  "•  .i-^'r^'  c  *$!j&gi$  '<&- 

"  ' » - lr  -S-f  ^-^~  -  v  V<*sv^      rf iT 


»468^      dfjT 


DUELING-OROUXD  AT   BI.ADKNSIH'HG. 


doubt.  But  he  afterwards  declared  to 
Colonel  Benton.  that  he  had  not  aimed  at 
the  life  of  Mr.  Clay  ;  that  he  did  not  level 
as  high  as  the  knee — not  higher  than  the 
knee-band,  'for  it  was  no  mercy  to  shoot 
a  man  in  the  knee;'  that  hi*  only  object 


gravel  knocked  up  in  the  same  place,  saw 
Mr.  Randolph  raise  his  pistol, — discharge 
it  into  the  air, — heard  him  say,  "  I  do  not 
fire  at  you,  Mr.  Clay" — and  immediately 
advancing,  and  offering  his  hand.  He 
was  met  in  the  same  spirit.  They  met 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


289 


half-way,  shook  hands,  Mr.  Randolph  say 
ing  jocosely,  "  You  owe  me  a  coat,  Mr. 
Clay" — (the  bullet  had  passed  through 
the  skirt  of  the  coat,  very  near  the  hip) 
— to  which  Mr.  Clay  promptly  and  hap 
pily  replied,  "  /  am  glad  the  debt  is  no 
greater."  I  had  come  up,  and  was  prompt 
to  proclaim  wrhat  I  had  been  obliged  to 
keep  secret  for  eight  days.  The  joy  of  all 
was  extreme  at  this  happy  termination  of 
a  most  critical  affair,  and  we  immediately 
left,  with  lighter  hearts  than  we  brought. 
I  stopped  to  sup  with  Mr.  Randolph  and 
his  friends, — none  of  us  wanted  dinner, — 
and  had  a  characteristic  time  of  it.  A 
runner  came  in  from  the  bank,  to  say  that 
they  had  overpaid  him,  by  mistake,  one 
hundred  and  thirty  dollars  that  day.  Mr. 
Randolph  answered,  "  I  believe  it  is  your 
rule  not  to  correct  mistakes,  except  at  the 
time  and  at  your  counter."  And  with 
that  answer  the  runner  had  to  return. 
When  gone,  Mr.  Randolph  said,  "I  will 
pay  it  on  Monday  ;  people  must  be  honest, 
if  banks  are  not."  He  asked  for  the 
sealed  paper  he  had  given  me,  opened  it, 
took  out  a  check  for  one  thousand  dollars, 
drawn  in  my  favor,  and  with  which  I  was 
requested  to  have  him  carried,  if  killed,  to 
Virginia,  and  buried  under  his  patri 
monial  oaks, — not  let  him  be  buried  at 
Washington,  with  an  hundred  hacks  after 
him.  He  took  the  gold  from  his  left 
breeches  pocket,  and  said  to  us  (Hamil 
ton,  Tatnall,  and  I), — 

"  Gentlemen,  Clay's  bad  shooting  shan't 
rob  you  of  your  seals.  I  am  going  to 
London,  and  will  have  them  made  for 
you." 

This  he  did  (says  Colonel  Benton),  and 
most  characteristically,  so  far  as  mine  was 
concerned.  He  went  to  the  heraldry  office 
in  London,  and  inquired  for  the  Benton 
family,  of  which  I  had  often  told  him 
there  was  none,  as  we  only  dated  on  that 
side  from  my  grandfather  in  North  Caro 
lina.  But  the  name  was  found,  and  with 
it  a  coat  of  arms, — among  the  quarterings 
a  lion  rampant.  "This  is  the  family," 
said  he ;  and  had  the  arms  engraved  on 
the  seal. 

19 


The  account  given  by  General  James 
Hamilton,  of  this  duel,  states  that,  in 
company  with  Colonel  Tatnall,  he  repaired, 
at  midnight,  to  Mr.  Randolph's  lodgings, 
and  found  him  reading  Milton's  great 
poem.  For  some  moments  he  did  not  per 
mit  them  to  say  one  word  in  relation  to 
the  approaching  duel,  for  he  at  once  com 
menced  one  of  those  delightful  criticisms 
on  a  passage  of  this  poet,  in  which  he  was 
wont  so  enthusiastically  to  indulge.  After 
a  pause,  Colonel  Tatnall  remarked  : 

"  Mr.  Randolph,  I  am  told  you  have 
determined  not  to  return  Mr.  Clay's  fire ; 
I  must  say  to  you,  my  dear  sir,  if  I  am 
only  to  go  out  to  see  you  shot  down,  you 
must  find  some  other  friend." 

"Well,  Tatnall,"  said  Mr.  Randolph, 
after  much  conversation  on  the  subject,  "  I 
promise  you  one  thing;  if  I  see  the  devil 
in  Clay's  eye,  and  that,  with  malice  pre 
pense,  he  means  to  take  my  life,  I  may 
change  my  mind" 

As  the  sequel  showed,  however,  he  saw 
no  '  devil  in  Clay's  eye,'  but  a  man  fear 
less,  and  expressing  the  mingled  sensi 
bility  and  firmness  pertaining  to  the 
occasion.  For,  whilst  Tatnall  was  load 
ing  Mr.  Randolph's  pistol,  Hamilton  ap 
proached  Randolph,  took  his  hand, — in 
the  touch  of  which  there  was  not  the 
quivering  of  one  pulsation, — and  then, 
turning  to  Hamilton,  Randolph  said: 

"  Clay  is  calm,  but  not  vindictive ;  I 
hold  my  purpose,  Hamilton,  in  any  event; 
remember  this." 

On  Randolph's  pistol  going  off  without 
the  word,  General  Jesup,  Mr.  Clay's 
friend,  called  out  that  he  would  instantly 
leave  the  ground  with  his  friend,  if  that 
occurred  again.  On  the  word  being 
given,  Mr.  Clay  fired  without  effect,  Mr. 
Randolph  discharging  his  pistol  in  the 
air.  On  seeing  this,  Mr.  Clay  instantly 
approached  Mr.  Randolph,  and  with  a  gush 
of  the  deepest  emotion,  said, — 

"  /  trust  in  God,  my  dear  sir,  you  are 
untouched;  after  what  has  occurred,  I 
would  not  have  harmed  you  for  a  thou 
sand  worlds  /" 

On  the  ensuing  Monday,  Mr.  Clay  and 


290 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Mr.  Randolph  formally  exchanged  cards, 
and  their  relations  of  amity  and  courtesy 
were  restored. 

Many  of  Mr.  Clay's  warmest  political 
friends,  at  the  north  and  west,  deeply 
regretted  that  he  should  resort  to  what 
they  deemed  so  immoral  and  barbarous 
a  mode  of  vindicating  his  character,  as 
that  of  the  duello.  But  this  was  soon 
forgotten,  and  his  political  career  continued 
to  be  one  of  great  brilliancy  and  power. 
He  soon  succeeded  General  John  Adair, 
as  senator  from  Kentucky ;  and  again,  in 
1831,  was  elected  over  Richard  M.  John 
son,  to  the  same  high  post.  He  was  dis 


appointed,  however,  in  his  aspirations  for 
the  presidency,  though  great  enthusiasm 
was  manifested  for  the  ticket  which,  in 
1831,  bore  his  name  at  its  head,  with  John 
Sergeant  for  vice-president.  The  other 
political  duels  which  have  excited  great 
interest  in  the  public  mind,  during  the 
century,  were  those  of  Lee  and  Lauren s, 
Cadwallader  and  Conway,  Guinnett  and 
Mclntosh,  Hamilton  and  Burr,  DeWitt 
Clinton  and  Swartwout,  Cilley  and  Graves, 
Broderick  and  Terry.  General  Jackson 
and  Colonel  Benton  were  also  parties  to 
several  duels,  the  former  killing  Mr. 
Dickinson,  and  the  latter  a  Mr.  Lucas. 


XXXI. 

FIFTIETH   ANNIVERSARY   AND    CELEBRATION    OF   THE 
INDEPENDENCE   OF   THE   REPUBLIC.— 1826. 


Sudden  and  Simultaneous  Death  of  Ex-Presidents  John  Adams  and  Thomas  Jefferson,  its  Two  Most 
Illustrious  Founders — The  Day  of  Resounding  Joy  and  Jubilee  Changed  to  One  of  Profound 
National  Sorrow. — Xo  Historical  Parallel  to  Such  a  Remarkable  Coincidence. — World-Renowned 
Career  of  these  Statesmen. — Extraordinary  Preparations  for  the  Day. — Adams  and  Jefferson  then 
Alive — Sires  and  Patriarchs  of  the  Nation  — Their  Names  Household  Words. — Invited  to  Share 
in  the  Festivities — They  Hail  the  Glorious  Morn — Great  Rejoicings,  Death's  Summons. — Jefferson's 
Distinguishing  Honor. — Adams's  Patriotic  Luster — Their  Imperishable  Deeds— Calm  yet  Hiyh 
Enthusiasm  —Hostile  Leaders  in  After-Life — Uacy  and  Piquant  Anecdote.— Crisis  Point  in  Adams's 
Fortunes — His  Last  Toast  for  His  Country, — "  Independence  Forever." — Two  Sages  in  Old  Age  — 
Serenity,  Wisdom,  Dignity. — Former  Friendship  Revived. — Letters  of  Mutual  Attachment. — Euro 
pean  Admiration  Excited. — Reverence  to  their  Colossal  Fame. 


"  Such  pan  away:  hut  they  leave 
All  hope,  or  love,  or  truth,  or  LIBEKTT,— 
Wiioae  forms  th»ir  mighty  spirits  could  conceive,— 
To  be  a  rule  and  law  to  u.  tn  that  survive." 


OYOUS,  painful,  by  sudden  and  strange  transition,  to  the  Ameri- 
:,    can  people,  was  the  Fourtli  of  July,  1826, — the  anniversary  of  the 
first  half-century  of  their  national  existence,  and,  as  it  proved,  the 
day   on    which    the   two  chief  founders   of   the  republic  passed, 
simultaneously,  from  the  scenes  of  their  earthly  career   to   the 

repose  and  the  rewards  of  another  world; — one  of  the  most  remarkable  coincidences 
that  has  ever  occurred  in  the  history  of  nations.  It  was  the  half-centennial  Jubilee  of 
American  Independence,  and  preparations  had  been  made  in  every  part  of  the  Union  to 
celebrate  the  august  day  with  extraordinary  demonstrations  and  observances.  John 
Adams  and  Thomas  Jefferson,  two  illustrious  sages,  whose  names  and  lives  were  pre 
eminently  identified  with  the  formation  of  the  government,  and,  for  so  many  years, 
with  its  history  and  administration,  so  much  so  as  to  have  become  household  names 
everywhere,  in  the  nation,  were,  on  this  most  memorable  day, — amid  the  rejoicings  of 
the  people,  the  peals  of  artillery,  the  strains  of  music,  the  exultations  of  a  great 
nation  in  the  enjoyment  of  freedom,  peace,  and  happiness, — released  from  the  toils 
of  life. 

In  the  personal  and  public  career  of  these  two  great  patriots,  there  were  many 
points  of  similarit}'.  In  the  enumeration  of  these  similarities  by  Mr.  Webster,  their 
eloquent  eulogist,  it  appears  that  they  belonged  to  the  same  profession,  both 
being  learned  and  able  lawyers.  They  were  natives  and  inhabitants,  respectively, 
of  those  two  of  the  colonies,  Massachusetts  and  Virginia,  which,  at  the  time  of  the 


292 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


revolution,  were  the  largest  and  most  pow 
erful,  and  which  naturally  had  a  lead  in 
the  political  affairs  of  the  times.  When 
the  colonies  became  in  some  degree  united, 
by  the  assembling  of  a  general  congress, 
they  were  brought,  at  an  early  period,  to 
act  together  in  its  deliberations.  Each 
had  already  manifested  his  attachment  to 
the  cause  of  the  country,  as  well  as  his 
ability  to  maintain  it,  by  printed  addresses, 
public  speeches,  extensive  correspondence, 
and  whatever  other  mode  could  be  adopted 
for  the  purpose  of  exposing  the  encroach 
ments  of  the  British  parliament,  and  ani 
mating  the  people  to  a  manly  resistance. 
Both  were  not  only  decided,  but  early, 
friends  of  independence.  While  others 
yet  doubted,  they  were  resolved;  where 
others  hesitated,  they  pressed  forward. 
They  were  both  members  of  the  committee 
for  preparing  the  Declaration  of  Independ 
ence,  and  they  constituted  the  sub-com 
mittee  appointed  by  the  other  members  to 


versary  of  American  liberty — in  the  very 
midst  of  the  festivities  which  commem 
orated  the  nation's  half-centennial  jubilee  ! 
Wherever  the  tidings  of  their  decease 
could  be  flashed,  on  that  eventful  day,  the 
voices  of  festivity  and  mirth  were  changed 
to  those  of  wonder  and  mourning. 

Jefferson's  imperishable  renown  consists 
in  his  having  penned  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  rather  than  in  the  fact  of 
his  having  filled  the  highest  offices,  state 
and  national,  culminating  with  that  of 
president  of  the  republic. 

On  the  other  hand,  to  have  been  fore 
most  among  those  who  foresaw  and  broke 
the  way  for  the  birth  of  a  new  nation ;  to 
have  been  the  mover  of  numerous  decisive 
acts,  the  undoubted  precursors  of  the  great 
consummation ;  to  have  been  among  the 
many  and  towering  spirits  then  engaged 
in  defying  the  mightiest  throne  in  Chris 
tendom,  by  acknowledgment  unsurpassed 
in  zeal,  and  unequaled  in  ability ;  to  have 


THE  JEFFERSON  MANSION  AT  MONTICELLO. 


make  the  draft.  Jefferson  was  the  author 
of  that  noblest  production  of  statesman 
ship  ;  Adams  was  its  chief  parliamentary 
expositor  and  triumphant  advocate  in  the 
'  assembly  of  the  mighty.'  They  left  their 
seats  in  congress,  being  called  to  other 
public  employment,  at  periods  not  remote 
from  each  other.  Both  became  public 
ministers  abroad,  both  vice-presidents,  and 
both  presidents.  All  these  remarkable 
parallels  and  coincidences  were  at  last  most 
singularly  crowned  and  completed  :  They 
died  together — and  they  died  on  the  anni- 


been  exclusively  associated  with  the  au 
thor  of  the  Declaration ;  and  then,  with  a 
fervid  and  overwhelming  eloquence,  to 
have  taken  the  lead  in  inspiring  the  con 
gress  unanimously  to  adopt  and  proclaim 
it, — this  is  the  glory  of  John  Adams. 

Mr.  Adams  commenced  the  practice  of 
the  law  in  his  native  town  of  Quincy.  At 
the  age  of  twenty-eight,  he  was  married  to 
Abigail  Smith,  a  country  clergyman's 
daughter,  and  an  excellent  woman  with 
whom  he  lived  in  wedlock  more  than  fifty 
years.  At  the  age  of  thirty,  he  published 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


a  dissertation  on  Canon  and  Feudal  Law, 
in  which  he  explained  the  Puritan  princi 
ples  of  religion  and  government,  and 
brought  them  to  bear  upon  the  disputes 
between  Great  Britain  and  the  colonies.  In 
176G,  lie  removed  to  Boston.  His  profes 
sional  standing  was  now  so  high,  that,  in 
1768,  Governor  Bernard  offered  him  the 
post  of  advocate-general  of  the  court  of 
admiralty.  But  Mr.  Adams  had  ranked 
himself  decisively  with  the  friends  of  the 
people  ;  and  had  he  accepted  a  lucrative 
office  under  the  crown,  although  no  condi 
tions  were  annexed,  his  course  would  not 
have  been  the  same  as  heretofore.  In 
truth,  the  offer  must  have  been  intended 
quite  as  much  to  silence  his  political  oppo 
sition,  as  to  secure  his  legal  services.  He 
therefore  declined  it,  but  gave  a  noble 
evidence,  not  long  afterwards,  that  no  base 
subserviency  to  the  people,  any  more  than 
to  the  government,  could  make  him  swerve 
from  his  own  ideas  of  right.  This  truth 
was  shown  in  1770,  by  his  conduct  in  ref 
erence  to  the  Boston  massacre,  as  the 
following  account  will  show. 

The  scene  of  bloodshed  in  King  street, 
Boston,  was  a  natural  consequence  of  the 
relative  positions  of  the  soldiery  and  the 
people.  No  good  feeling  could  possibly 
exist  between  them.  On  the  part  of  the 
troops,  the  haughty  consciousness  that 
Britain  had  made  them  keepers  of  the 
province,  together  with  a  sense  of  the 
odium  in  which  they  were  held,  produced 
a  contemptuous  antipathy  towards  the 
colonists. 

At  the  sight  of  their  own  blood,  shed  by 
a  hireling  soldiery,  the  ferment  of  the 
people  became  terrible,  and  was  shared, 
for  a  time,  by  the  calmest  patriots  in  New 
England.  A  multitude,  computed  at  ten 
or  twelve  thousand,  assembled  at  Faneuil 
Hall,  and  adjourned  thence  to  the  Old 
South  Church.  There  went  a  rumor,  that 
the  tragedy  in  King  street  had  been  pre 
meditated,  and  was  but  the  prelude  to  a 
general  massacre.  For  defense  against 
this  exaggerated,  }Tet  not  altogether  shad 
ow}'  danger,  a  military  guard  was  enrolled, 
and  the  town  put  itself  under  martial  law. 


No  British  officer  or   soldier   could   have 
walked  the  streets  with  safety  to  his  life. 

Such  was  the  state  of  affairs,  when  John 
Adams,  himself  the  foremost  patriot  of  all, 
and  a  member  of  the  people's  military 
guard,  was  solicited  to  undertake  the 
defense  of  Captain  Preston,  and  the  sol 
diers  who  had  fired  the  fatal  volley,  against 
the  charge  of  murder.  It  was  a  singular 
compliment  to  his  integrity,  that  the 
imprisoned  soldiers  should  have  sought  the 
aid  of  a  man  so  situated. 

It  does  not  appear  that  the  confidence 
of  Mr.  Adams's  countrymen  in  him  was 
shaken  by  this  act  of  personal  and  profes 
sional  independence;  or,  if  so,  it  was  only 
for  the  moment.  In  1773,  he  was  chosen 
a  member  of  the  provincial  council,  but 
was  rejected  by  the  tory  Governor  Hutch- 
inson,  and  afterwards  by  General  Gage. 

In  the  year  1775,  John  Adams,  as  a 
delegate  in  congress,  nominated  George 
Washington  to  the  post  of  commander-in- 
chief  of  the  American  armies.  The  glory 
of  originating  this  choice  appears  to  be 
long  principally  to  Mr.  Adams,  and,  did 
he  need  a  secondary  reputation,  this 
would  have  been  claim  enough  to  his 
country's  gratitude.  The  service  cannot 
be  too  highly  estimated.  Washington's 
character  was  of  such  a  nature,  that,  if 
some  sagacious  individual  had  not  pointed 
him  out,  he  probably  would  not  have  been 
the  foremost  figure  in  the  public  eye. 
Had  the  selection  fallen  upon  another,  no 
one  can  conjecture  what  would  have  been 
the  result. 

As  already  stated,  Mr.  Adams  was  one 
of  the  committee  to  draft  the  Declaration 
of  Independence ;  and  the  calm,  yet  high 
enthusiasm  of  the  letter  in  which  he 
announced  that  event  to  a  friend,  and 
prophesied  that  its  anniversary  would 
become  a  national  festival,  must  be  famil 
iar  to  every  American.  He  had  a  share 
in  all  the  weightiest  business  of  congress, 
and  bore  the  burden  of  much  that  was  less 
important,  being  a  member  of  no  less  than 
ninety  committees,  and  chairman  of  twen 
ty-five.  In  1777,  he  was  appointed  com 
missioner  to  France,  to  supersede  Deane, 


294 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


who  was  the  colleague  there  of  Benjamin 
Franklin  and  Arthur  Lee  ;  returning  home 
iu  1779,  he  was  again  sent  out,  in  the 
autumn  of  that  year,  with  powers  to  con 
clude  a  treaty  of  peace  and  commerce.  In 
1785,  the  distinguished  honor  fell  to  him 
of  heing  appointed  the  first  minister  from 
the  United  States  to  the  court  of  St. 
James;  and,  in  this  capacity,  was  duly 
presented  to  his  long-time  political  enemy, 
King  George  the  Third.  In  1788,  he 
returned  home.  He  subsequently  assisted 
in  forming  the  constitution  of  his  native 
state.  During  the  eight  years  presidency 
of  Washington,  Mr.  Adams  was  vice-pres 
ident,  and,  when  the  former  retired  from 
office,  Mr.  Adams,  after  a  hard  political 
contest  with  Jefferson  and  Thomas  Pinck- 
ney,  became  president  of  the  United 


States.  At  the  end,  however,  of  the  first 
four  years,  Mr.  Jefferson  came  in  by  a  tri 
umphant  majority,  and  President  Adams 
retired  to  domestic  life.  This  was  in  1801, 
when  he  had  reached  the  age  of  sixty-six. 
His  long  course  of  public  services  was 
now  ended.  At  the  period  of  his  retire 
ment,  he  did  not  enjoy  the  unreserved  and 
cordial  approbation  of  any  party.  Some 
of  his  measures  had  gone  far  towards  alien 
ating  the  federalists  by  whom  he  had  been 
chosen  president,  and  he  had  bitter  ene 


mies.  Being  a  man  of  warm  passions, 
Mr.  Adams  was  not  slow  to  resent,  nor 
cautious  to  hide  his  resentment.  He  once 
observed,  pointing  to  his  own  portrait, 
"  That  fellow  could  never  keep  his  mouth 
shut ! "  But  he  was  always  frank,  and 
inflexibly  honest,  as  is  most  plainly  shown 
by  the  incidents  given  in  his  biography, 
written  by  Hon.  Charles  Francis  Adams. 

As  showing  from   what  accidental   cir 
cumstances  often  spring  the  most  import 
ant  changes  in  the  lives  and  fortunes  of 
men,  the  following  anecdote  is  well  worth}' 
of  a  place  in  this  narrative:  'When  I  was 
a  boy/  says  John  Adams,  '  I  had  to  study 
the  Latin  grammar,  but  it  was  dull,  and  I 
hated  it.     My  father  was  anxious  to  send 
me  to  college,  and  therefore  I  studied  the 
grammar  till  I  could  bear  with  it  no  longer, 
and,  going  to  my  father,  I  told  him  I  did 
not  like  study,  and  asked  for  some  other 
employment.        It     was    opposing    his 
wishes,  and  he  was  quick  in  his  answer. 
'Well,  John,'  said   he,  'if  Latin   gram 
mar  does  not   suit    you,    you  may  try 
ditching;      perhaps     that     will.       My 
meadow  yonder  needs  a  ditch,  and  you 
may  put  by  Latin  and  try  that.'     This 
seemed  a  delightful  change,  and  to  the 
meadow  I  went.      But   I    soon   found 
-;     ditching  harder  than  Latin,  and  the  first 
.  :  forenoon  was  the  longest  I  ever  expe 
rienced.      That  day  I  ate  the  bread  of 
labor,  and  glad  was  I  when  night  came 
on.     That  night  I  made  some  compar 
ison  between  Latin  grammar  and  ditch 
ing,  but    said    not  a  word  about    it.     I 
dug  the  next  forenoon,  and  wanted  to 
return  to  Latin  at  dinner ;    but   it   was 
humiliating,    and  I  could  not  do  it.     At 
night,    toil    conquered    pride,  and    I    told 
my  father — one  of  the   severest  trials  of 
my  life — that,  if  he  chose,  I  would  go  back 
to  Latin  grammar.      He  was  glad  of  it; 
and  if  I  have  since  gained  any  distinction, 
it  has  been  owing  to  the  two  days'  labor 
in  that  abominable  ditch.' 

Declining  farther  and  farther  into  the 
vale  of  years,  and  now  long  removed  from 
the  dust  of  contending  parties,  the  hoary 
sage  drew  towards  his  sepulchre.  For 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


295 


several  days  before  the  fourth  of  July  on 
which  he  expired,  he  had  been  fast  failing, 
though,  in  reply  to  an  invitation  to  partici 
pate  in  the  celebration  of  that  day,  he 
wrote  a  patriotic  note,  full  of  the  fire  of 
his  best  days.  Being  desired  to  furnish  a 
toast  for  the  occasion,  he  gave — 'INDE 
PENDENCE  FOREVER!'  He  was  asked  if 
anything  should  be  added  to  it.  He  imme 
diately  replied,  "Not  a  word/"  This 
toast  was  drank  at  the  celebration  in 
Quincy,  about  fifty  minutes  before  the 
departure  of  the  venerated  statesman  from 
earth.  On  the  morning  of  the  fourth, 
which  was  ushered  in  by  the  ringing  of 
bells  and  firing  of  cannon,  he  was  asked  if 
he  knew  what  day  it  was  ? — "  0  yes,"  he 
replied,  "it  is  the  glorious  fourth  of  July 
—God  bless  it !— God  bless  you  all ! "  In 
the  course  of  the  day  he  said,  "  It  is  a 
great  and  glorious  day."  The  last  words 
he  uttered  were,  "Jefferson  survives!" 
But  the  spirit  of  Jefferson  had  already 
left  the  body.  Among  Adams's  pall 
bearers,  were  President  Kirkland,  Judge 
Story,  Judge  Davis,  and  Lieutenant 
Governor  Winthrop. 

Mr.  Jefferson,  the  illustrious  compeer  of 
Adams,  was  born  in  Albemarle  county, 
Virginia,  in  1743,  and  was  entered  a  stu 
dent  in  the  college  of  William  and  Mary. 
On  leaving  this  seminar}',  he  applied  him 
self  to  the  study  of  the  law,  under  the 
tuition  of  the  celebrated  George  Wythe, 
and  was  called  to  the  bar  in  1766.  He 
soon  occupied  a  high  stand  in  his  profes 
sion,  and,  at  the  early  age  of  twenty-five, 
entered  the  house  of  burgesses  of  his 
native  state.  In  1774,  he  published  a 
Summary  View  of  the  Rights  of  British 
America,  a  bold  but  respectful  pamphlet 
addressed  to  the  king.  In  1775,  he  was 
elected  a  member  of  the  continental  con 
gress,  and  in  the  following  year  drew  up 
the  Declaration  of  Independence,  the  most 
remarkable  document  that  has  ever,  in  the 
ages  of  the  world,  proceeded  from  an 
uninspired  pen. 

Of  the  committee  appointed  to  draft  the 
momentous  Declaration,  Jefferson,  though 
the  youngest,  was  unanimously  made 


chairman,  his  colleagues  being  John 
Adams  of  Massachusetts,  Benjamin  Frank 
lin  of  Pennsylvania,  Roger  Sherman  of 
Connecticut,  and  Robert  R.  Livingston  of 
New  York.  Jefferson's  draft  was  taken 
up,  in  committee  of  the  whole,  on  the  first 
of  July,  the  chair  being  filled  by  Benjamin 
Harrison,  father  of  William  Henry  Har 
rison,  president  of  the  United  States  in 
1840.  The  great  manifesto  was  debated, 
and,  after  some  slight  modifications,  was 
agreed  to  in  the  course  of  a  three  days' 
session.  No  record  of  that  thrilling  debate 
has  come  down ;  only  some  fragmentary 
reminiscences  of  the  participants  of  the 
drama.  Edward  Rutledge,  of  South  Caro 
lina,  is  said  to  have  exclaimed,  "I  should 
advise  persisting  in  our  struggle  for  liberty 
and  independence,  though  it  were  revealed 
from  Heaven  that  nine  hundred  and  ninety- 
nine  were  to  perish,  and  only  one  of  a 
thousand  were  to  survive  and  retain  his 
liberty."  The  Declaration  was  adopted, 
by  a  unanimous  vote,  a  little  past  noon,  on 
the  fourth  of  July.  "Now,  gentlemen," 
said  the  quaint  Dr.  Franklin  to  his  col 
leagues,  "  we  must  all  hang  together,  or 
we  shall  surely  hang  separately." 

Though  what  may  be  termed  bitter 
political  rivals  for  a  long  period, — leading, 
respectively,  the  two  great  opposing  par 
ties, — time's  mellowing  influence  changed 
all  this,  and  the  two  patriarchal  statesmen 
and  ex-presidents  cultivated  a  mutually 
warm  and  generous  friendship  in  their  old 
age.  In  a  letter  written  by  Jefferson  to 
Adams,  in  June,  1822,  he  says: 

"  It  is  very  long,  my  dear  sir,  since  I 
have  written  to  you.  My  dislocated  wrist 
is  now  become  so  stiff,  that  I  write  slowly, 
and  with  pain;  and  therefore  write  as 
little  as  I  can.  Yet  it  is  due  to  mutual 
friendship,  to  ask  once  in  a  while  how  we 
do  ?  I  have  ever  dreaded  a  doting  old 
age ;  and  my  health  has  been  generally  so 
good,  and  is  now  so  good,  that  I  dread  it 
still.  The  rapid  decline  of  my  strength 
during  the  last  winter,  has  made  me  hope, 
sometimes,  that  I  see  land.  During 
summer,  I  enjoy  its  temperature,  but  I 
shudder  at  the  approach  of  winter,  and 


296 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


wish  I  could  sleep  through  it,  with  the 
dormouse,  and  only  wake  with  him  in 
spring,  if  ever.  They  say  that  Starke 
could  walk  about  his  room.  I  am  told  you 
walk  well  and  firmly.  I  can  only  reach 
my  garden,  and  that  with  sensible  fatigue. 
I  ride,  however,  daily;  but  reading  is  my 
delight.  I  should  wish  never  to  put  pen 
to  paper;  and  the  more  because  of  the 


Europe,  where  it  excited  much  commenda 
tion,  on  account  of  the  contrast  it  afforded 
between  an  old  age  thus  dedicated  to 
virtue,  temperance,  and  philosophy,  and 
the  heart-sie-kening  details  so  often  per 
taining  to  the  lives  of  those  who  sit  upon 
thrones. 

Though  he  had  for  some  time  past  been 
failing  in  his  general   health,   it   was  not 


THE  ADAMS  MANSION  AT  QUINCY. 


treacherous  practice  some  people  have,  of 
publishing  one's  letters  without  leave;" 
— etc.,  etc. 

In  his  reply  to  the  pleasant  and  cordial 
letter,  from  which  the  above  few  sentences 
are  extracted  as  specimens,  Mr.  Adams 
says,  among  other  friendly  and  felicitous 
expressions : 

"  Half  an  hour  ago  I  received,  and  this 
moment  have  heard  read,  for  the  third  or 
fourth  time,  the  best  letter  that  ever  was 
written  by  an  octogenarian,  dated  June 
1st.  My  sight  is  very  dim,  hearing  pretty 
good,  memory  poor  enough.  In  wishing 
for  your  health  and  happiness,  I  am  very 
selfish;  for  I  hope  for  more  letters.  This 
is  worth  more  than  five  hundred  dollars  to 
me ;  for  it  has  already  given  me,  and  will 
continue  to  give  me,  more  pleasure  than  a 
thousand  ;  " — etc.,  etc. 

This  correspondence  between  the  once 
rival  presidents  of  the  greatest  republic  of 
the  world,  was  republished  in  full,  in 


until  the  first  of  July  that  Mr.  Jefferson 
was  confined  to  his  bed.  On  the  third,  iie 
continued  to  sink.  Near  the  middle  of  the 
night  he  asked  the  hour;  and  on  being 
told  that  it  was  near  one  o'clock,  he 
expressed  his  joy.  He  expressed  an  earn 
est  desire  that  he  might  live  to  behold  the 
light  of  the  next  day — the  fiftieth  anni 
versary  of  the  independence  of  his  coun 
try.  His  prayer  was  answered.  At  fifty 
minutes  past  meridian,  July  fourth,  1826, 
Thomas  Jefferson  ceased  to  breathe. 

Thus,  these  two  most  illustrious  fathers 
of  the  republic, — associates,  rivals,  friends, 
— took  their  flight  together  to  the  other 
world,  on  the  most  memorable  day  since 
the  birth  of  the  nation,  and  all  classes  and 
parties,  forgetting  the  animosities  of  the 
past,  united  in  paying  their  common  trib 
ute  of  reverence  to  the  magnificent  fame 
of  Adams  and  Jefferson.  In  the  words  of 
Webster,  their  great  eulogist,  "TIIEIK 

NAME  LIVETH  EVERMORE!" 


XXXII. 

THE    "GREAT    DEBATE"    BETWEEN    WEBSTER   AND 
IIAYNE,  IN  CONGRESS.— 1830. 


Vital  Constitutional  Issues  Discussed  —Unsurpassed  Power  and  Splendor  of  Senatorial  Eloquence  — 
Webster's  Speech  Acknowledged  to  be  the  Grandest  Forensic  Achievement  in  the  Whole  Range  of 
Modern  Parliamentary  Efforts — Golden  Age  ot  American  Oratory.— Unprecedented  Interest  and 
Excitement  Produced  in  the  Public  Mind — No  American  Debate  Comparable  with  This.— Known  as 
the  "Battle  of  the  Giants  " — Inflamed  Feeling  at  the  South. —  Havre's  Brilliant  Championship.— His 
Speech  Against  the  North —Profound  Impression  Created — Its  Dash,  Assurance,  Severity — Bitter 
and  Sweeping  Charges. — His  Opponents  Wonder-Struck  —Webster  has  the  Floor  to  Reply. — An 
Ever-Memorable  Day. — Intense  Anxiety  to  Hear  Him. — Magnificent  Personal  Appearance.— His 
Exordium,  all  Hearts  Enchained.— Immense  Intellectual  Kange — Copious  and  Crushing  Logic. — 
Accumulative  Grandeur  of  Thought. — Thrilling  Apostrophe  to  the  Union — The  Serious,  Comic, 
Pathetic,  etc — Hayne's  Argument  Demolished. — Reception  Accorded  the  Speech. — Rival  Orators; 
Pleasant  Courtesies. 


"  It  has  been  my  fortune  to  hear  some  of  the  abl'gt  *ne»ehc<i  of  the  RTPnt«t  lirinj  oratom  on  both  Miles  of  the  water,  but  I  must  confess  I 
never  heard  anything  which  «o  completely  realized  my  conception  of  what  Demosthenes  wua  when  he  delivered  the  Orutiou  for  the  Crown." 

— EUWAKD   i.VEKKTT   OS    WEBSTER'S    SI'EECH. 


I  HE  remark  made  by  a  distinguished  public  man, 
that  to  have  heard  the  great  national  debate  in  the 
senate  of  the  United  States,  between  Webster  of 
Massachusetts  and  Hayne  of  South  Carolina,  "con 
stituted  an  era  in  a  man's  life,"  is  an  expression 
worthy  of  being  expanded  into  the  far  more  com 
mensurate  statement  that  the  debate  in  question 
constituted  an  era  of  far-reaching  influence  and 
importance,  in  the  political  history  of  the  nation. 
It  was,  indeed,  the  greatest  forensic  exhibition  this 
country  has  ever  witnessed,  and,  though  nearly 
half  a  century  has  elapsed  since  its  occurrence,  and  the  immediate  participants  and 
their  official  contemporaries  have,  almost  all  of  them,  long  since  passed  to  the  sphere  of 
another  existence,  the  occasion  still  furnishes,  and  will  continue  to  furnish  to  future 
generations,  one  of  the  most  instructive  chapters  in  the  annals  of  national  affairs.  Well 
has  the  debate  been  called  '  the  battle  of  the  giants' 

Fortunately  for  those  who  would  wish,  in  after  time,  to  inform  themselves  with  ref 
erence  to   the  principles  involved  and  the  chief  actors  engaged  in  this  great  debate, 


THE  VICTOR'S  'WREATH. 


298 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


the  memorials  of  the  occasion  furnished 
by  Mr.  March,  and,  subsequently,  by  Mr. 
Laiumui,  Dr.  Tefft,  Louis  Gaylord  Clark, 
Edward  Everett,  and  others,  leave  nothing 
to  be  supplied.  Mr.  March's  notes  are 
adopted  by  Mr.  Everett,  in  his  memoirs  of 
Mr.  Webster,  and,  in  an  abridged  form, 
are  given  below,  in  connection  with  the 
perspicuous  statements  of  Tefft  and  others 
relating  to  the  general  issue.  The  speech 
was  also  reported  by  Mr.  Joseph  Gales, 
at  the  request  of  Judge  Burnett,  of  Ohio, 
and  other  senators.  On  canvas,  too,  Hea- 
ley,  the  master-painter,  has  commem 
orated  in  an  enduring  manner,  the  orator 
and  the  occasion. 

The  subject  of  discussion  before  the 
senate,  in  the  persons  of  these  two  intel 
lectual  gladiators,  grew  out  of  a  resolution 
brought  forward  by  Senator  Foot,  of  Con 
necticut,  just  at  the  close  of  the  previous 
year,  with  a  view  to  some  arrangement 
concerning  the  sale  of  the  public  lands. 
But  this  immediate  question  was  soon  lost 
sight  of  in  the  discussion  of  a  great,  vital 
principle  of  constitutional  law,  namely : 
the  relative  powers  of  the  states  and  the 
national  government.  Upon  this,  Mr. 
Benton  and  Mr.  Haync  addressed  the 
senate,  condemning  the  policy  of  the  east 
ern  states,  as  illiberal  toward  the  west. 
Mr.  Webster  replied,  in  vindication  of 
New  England  and  of  the  policy  of  the 
government.  It  was  then  that  Mr.  llayne 
made  his  attack — sudden,  unexpected,  and 
certainly  unexampled, — on  Mr.  W7ebster 
personally,  upon  Massachusetts  and  the 
other  northern  states  politically,  and  upon 
the  constitution  itself;  in  respect  to  the 
latter,  Mr.  Hayne  taking  the  position,  that 
it  is  constitutional  to  interrupt  the  admin 
istration  of  the  constitution  itself,  in  the 
hands  of  those  who  are  chosen  and  sworn 
to  administer  it,  by  the  direct  interference, 
in  form  of  law,  of  the  states,  in  virtue  of 
their  sovereign  capacity.  All  of  these 
points  were  handled  by  Mr.  Hayne  with 
that  rhetorical  brilliancy  and  power  which 
characterized  him  as  the  oratorical  cham 
pion  of  the  south,  on  the  floor  of  the 
senate ;  and  it  is  not  saying  too  much, 


that  the  speech  produced  a  profound  im 
pression. 

Mr.  Hayne's  great  effort  appeared  to  be 
the  result  of  premeditation,  concert  and 
arrangement.  He  selected  his  own  time, 
and  that,  too,  peculiarly  inconvenient  to 
Mr.  Webster,  for,  at  that  moment,  the 
supreme  court  were  proceeding  in  the 
hearing  of  a  cause  of  great  importance,  in 
which  he  was  a  leading  counsel.  For  this 
reason,  lie  requested,  through  a  friend,  a 
postponement  of  the  debate;  Mr.  Hayne 
objected,  however,  and  the  request  was 
refused.  The  time,  the  matter,  and  the 
manner,  indicated  that  the  attack  was 
made  with  a  design  to  crush  so  formidable 
a  political  opponent  as  Mr.  Webster  had 
become.  To  this  end,  personal  history, 
the  annals  of  New  England  and  of  the 
federal  party,  were  ransacked  for  materi 
als.  It  was  attempted,  with  the  usual 
partisan  unfairness  of  political  harangues, 
to  make  him  responsible,  not  only  for  what 
was  his  own,  but  for  the  conduct  and. opin 
ions  of  others.  All  the  errors  and  delin 
quencies,  real  or  supposed,  of  Massachu 
setts,  and  the  eastern  states,  and  of  the 
federal  party,  during  the  Avar  of  1812,  and, 
indeed,  prior  and  subsequent  to  that 
period,  were  accumulated  upon  him. 

Thus  it  was,  that  Mr.  Haync  heralded 
his  speech  with  a  bold  declaration  of  war, 
with  taunts  and  threats,  vaunting  antici 
pated  triumph,  as  if  to  paralyze  by  intimi 
dation  ;  saying  that  he  would  carry  the 
war  into  Africa,  until  he  had  obtained 
indemnity  for  the  past  and  security  for  the 
future.  It  was  supposed  that,  as  a  distin 
guished  representative  man,  Mr.  Webster 
would  be  driven  to  defend  what  was  inde 
fensible,  and  to  uphold  what  could  not  be 
sustained,  and,  as  a  federalist,  to  oppose 
the  popular  resolutions  of  '98. 

The  severe  nature  of  Mr.  Ilayne's 
charges,  the  ability  with  which  he  brought 
them  to  bear  upon  his  opponents,  his  great 
reputation  as  a  brilliant  and  powerful 
declaimer,  filled  the  minds  of  his  friends 
with  anticipations  of  complete  triumph. 
For  two  days,  Mr.  Hayne  had  the  control 
of  the  floor.  The  vehemence  of  his  Ian- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


299 


guage  and  the  earnestness  of  his  manner 
gave  added  force  to  the  excitement  of  the 
occasion.  So  fluent  and  melodious  was  his 
elocution,  that  his  cause  naturally  begat 
sympathy.  No  one  had  time  to  deliberate 
upon  his  rapid  words,  or  canvass  his  sweep 
ing  and  accumulated  statements.  The 
dashing  nature  of  the  onset ;  the  assurance, 
almost  insolence,  of  its  tone ;  the  serious 
character  and  apparent  truth  of  the  accu 
sations,  confounded  almost  every  hearer. 
The  immediate  impression  from  the  speech 
was  most  assuredly  disheartening  to  the 
cause  Mr.  Webster  upheld.  Congratula 
tions  from  almost  every  quarter  were  show 
ered  upon  the  speaker.  Mr.  Benton  said, 
in  the  full  senate,  that  much  as  Mr.  Hayne 
had  done  before  to  establish  his  reputation 
as  an  orator,  a  statesman,  a  patriot,  and  a 
gallant  son  of  the  south,  the  efforts  of  that 
day  would  eclipse  and  surpass  the  whole. 
Indeed,  the  speech  was  extolled  as  the 
greatest  effort  of  the  time,  or  of  other 
times, — neither  Chatham,  nor  Burke,  nor 
Fox,  had  surpassed  it,  in  their  palmiest 
days. 

Satisfaction,  however,  with  the  speech, 
even  among  the  friends  of  the  orator,  was 
not  unanimous.  Some  of  the  senators 
knew,  for  they  had  felt,  Mr.  Webster's 
power.  They  knew  the  great  resources  of 
his  mind;  the  immense  range  of  his  intel 
lect;  the  fertility  of  his  imagination;  his 
copious  and  fatal  logic;  the  scathing  sever 
ity  of  his  sarcasm,  and  his  full  and  electri 
fying  eloquence.  Mr.  Webster's  own 
feelings  with  reference  to  the  speech  were 
freely  expressed  to  his  friend,  Mr.  Everett, 
the  evening  succeeding  Mr.  Hayne's  clos 
ing  effort.  He  regarded  the  speech  as  an 
entirely  unprovoked  attack  upon  the  north, 
and,  what  was  of  far  more  importance,  as 
an  exposition  of  a  system  of  politics, 
which,  in  Mr.  Webster's  opinion,  went  far 
to  change  the  form  of  government  from 
that  which  was  established  by  the  consti 
tution,  into  that  which  existed  under  the 
confederation, — if  the  latter  could  be  called 
a  government  at  all.  He  stated  it  to  be 
his  intention,  therefore,  to  put  that  theory 
to  rest  forever,  as  far  as  it  could  be  done 


by  an  argument  in  the  senate-chamber. 
How  grandly  he  did  this,  is  thus  vividly 
portrayed  by  Mr.  March,  an  eye-witness, 
and  whose  account  has  been  adopted  by  all 
historians : 

It  was  on  Tuesday,  January  the  twenty- 
sixth,  1830, — a  day  to  be  hereafter  forever 
memorable  in  senatorial  annals, — that  the 
senate  resumed  the  consideration  of  Foot's 
resolution.  There  was  never  before  in  the 
cit}r,  an  occasion  of  so  much  excitement. 
To  witness  this  great  intellectual  contest, 
multitudes  of  strangers  had  for  two  or 


ROBERT  T.   HAYNE. 


three  days  previous  been  rushing  into  the 
city,  and  the  hotels  overflowed.  As  early 
as  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning,  crowds 
poured  into  the  capitol,  in  hot  haste ;  at 
twelve  o'clock,  the  hour  of  meeting,  the 
senate-chamber, — its  galleries,  floor,  and 
even  the  lobbies, — was  filled  to  its  utmost 
capacity.  The  very  stairways  were  dark 
with  men,  who  hung  on  to  one  another, 
like  bees  in  a  swarm. 

The  house  of  representatives  was  early 
deserted.  An  adjournment  would  hardly 
have  made  it  emptier.  The  speaker,  it  is 
true,  retained  his  chair,  but  no  business  of 
moment  was,  or  could  be,  attended  to. 
Members  all  rushed  in,  to  hear  Mr.  Web 
ster,  and  no  call  of  the  house,  or  other  par 
liamentary  proceedings,  could  compel  them 
back.  The  floor  of  the  senate  was  so 


300 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


densely  crowded,  that  persons  once  in 
could  not  get  out,  nor  change  their  posi 
tion.  In  the  rear  of  the  vice-president's 
chair,  the  crowd  was  particularly  dense; 
Hon.  Dixon  H.  Lewis,  then  a  representa 
tive  from  Alabama,  became  wedged  in 
here.  From  his  enormous  size,  it  was 
impossible  for  him  to  move  without  dis 
placing  a  vast  portion  of  the  multitude ; 
unfortunately,  too,  for  him,  he  was 
jammed  in  directly  behind  the  chair  of  the 
vice-president,  where  he  could  not  see,  and 
could  hardly  hear,  the  speaker.  By  slow 
and  laborious  effort — pausing  occasionally 
to  breathe — he  gained  one  of  the  windows, 
which,  constructed  of  painted  glass,  flanked 
the  chair  of  the  vice-president  on  either 
side.  Here  he  paused,  unable  to  make 
more  headway.  But  determined  to  see 
Mr.  Webster,  as  he  spoke,  with  his  knife 
he  made  a  large  hole  in  one  of  the  panes 
of  glass.  The  courtesy  of  senators  ac 
corded  to  the  fairer  sex  room  on  the  floor 
— the  most  gallant  of  them,  their  own 
seats. 

Seldom,  if  ever,  has  speaker  in  this  or 
any  other  country,  had  more  powerful 
incentives  to  exertion  ;  a  subject,  the 
determination  of  which  involved  the  most 
important  interests,  and  even  duration,  of 
the  republic ;  competitors,  unequaled  in 
reputation,  ability,  or  position ;  a  name  to 
make  still  more  renowned,  or  lose  forever; 
and  an  audience,  comprising  not  only 
American  citizens  most  eminent  in  intel 
lectual  greatness,  but  representatives  of 
other  nations,  where  the  art  of  eloquence 
had  flourished  for  ages. 

Mr.  Webster  perceived,  and  felt  equal 
to,  the  destinies  of  the  moment.  The  very 
greatness  of  the  hazard  exhilarated  him. 
His  spirits  rose  with  the  occasion.  He 
awaited  the  time  of  onset  with  a  stern  and 
impatient  joy.  He  felt,  like  the  war-horse 
of  the  scriptures,  who  '  paweth  in  the 
valley,  and  rejoiceth  in  his  strength  :  who 
goeth  on  to  meet  the  armed  men, — who 
sayeth  among  the  trumpets,  ha,  ha!  and 
who  smelleth  the  battle  afar  off,  the  thun 
der  of  the  captains  and  the  shouting.'  A 
confidence  in  his  resources,  springing  from 


no  vain  estimate  of  his  power,  but  the 
legitimate  offspring  of  previous  severe 
mental  discipline,  sustained  and  excited 
him.  He  had  gauged  his  opponents,  his 
subject,  and  himself.  He  was,  too,  at  this 
period,  in  the  very  prime  of  manhood.  He 
had  reached  middle  age — an  era  in  the  life 
of  man,  when  the  faculties,  physical  or 
intellectual,  may  be  supposed  to  attain 
their  fullest  organization,  and  most  perfect 
development.  Whatever  there  was  in 
him  of  intellectual  energy  and  vitality,  the 
occasion,  his  full  life  and  high  ambition, 
might  well  bring  forth. 

He  never  rose  on  an  ordinary  occasion 
to  address  an  ordinary  audience  more  self- 
possessed.  There  was  no  tremulousness  in 
his  voice  nor  manner;  nothing  hurried, 
nothing  simulated.  The  calmness  of  supe 
rior  strength  was  visible  everywhere  ;  in 
countenance,  voice,  and  bearing.  A  deep- 
seated  conviction  of  the  extraordinary 
character  of  the  emergency',  and  of  his 
ability  to  control  it,  seemed  to  possess  him 
wholly.  If  an  observer,  more  than  ordi 
narily  keen-sighted,  detected  at  times 
something  like  exultation  in  his  eye,  he 
presumed  it  sprang  from  the  excitement  of 
the  moment,  and  the  anticipation  of 
victory. 

The  anxiety  to  hear  the  speech  was  so 
intense,  irrepressible,  and  universal,  that 
no  sooner  had  the  vice-president  assumed 
the  chair,  than  a  motion  was  made  and 
unanimously  carried,  to  postpone  the  ordi 
nary  preliminaries  of  senatorial  action,  and 
to  take  up  immediately  the  consideration 
of  the  resolution. 

Mr.  Webster  rose  and  addressed  the 
senate.  His  exordium  is  known  by  heart 
everywhere :  "Mr.  President,  when  the 
mariner  has  been  tossed,  for  many  days,  in 
thick  weather,  and  on  an  unknown  sea,  he 
naturally  avails  himself  of  the  first  pause 
in  the  storm,  the  earliest  glance  of  the 
sun,  to  take  his  latitude,  and  ascertain  how 
far  the  elements  have  driven  him  from  his 
true  course.  Let  us  imitate  this  prudence ; 
and  before  we  float  further,  on  the  waves 
of  this  debate,  refer  to  the  point  from 
which  we  departed,  that  we  may,  at  least, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


301 


be  able  to  form  some  conjecture  where  we 
now  are.  I  ask  for  tlie  reading  of  the  res 
olution."  Calm,  resolute,  impressive,  was 
this  opening  utterance. 

There  wanted  no  more  to  enchain  the 
attention.  There  was  a  spontaneous, 
though  silent,  expression  of  eager  approba 
tion,  as  the  orator  concluded  these  opening 
remarks.  And  while  the  clerk  read  the 
resolution,  many  attempted  the  impossibil 
ity  of  getting  nearer  the  speaker.  Every 
head  was  inclined  closer  towards  him, 
every  ear  turned  in  the  direction  of  his 
voice — and  that  deep,  sudden,  mysterious 
silence  followed,  which  always  attends  full 
ness  of  emotion.  From  the  sea  of  up 
turned  faces  before  him,  the  orator  beheld 
his  thoughts  reflected  as  from  a  mirror. 
The  varying  countenance,  the  suffused  eye, 
the  earnest  smile,  and  ever-attentive  look, 
assured  him  of  the  intense  interest  excited. 
If,  among  his  hearers,  there  were  those 
who  affected  at  first  an  indifference  to  his 
glowing  thoughts  and  fervent  periods,  the 
difficult  mask  was  soon  laid  aside,  and 
profound,  undisguised,  devoted  attention 


DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

followed.  In  truth,  all,  sooner  or  later, 
voluntarily,  or  in  spite  of  themselves,  were 
wholly  carried  away  by  the  spell  of  such 
unexampled  forensic  eloquence. 

Those  who  had  doubted  Mr.  Webster's 
ability   to   cope    with   and   overcome   his 


opponents  were  fully  satisfied  of  their 
error  before  he  had  proceeded  far  in  his 
speech.  Their  fears  soon  took  another 
direction.  AVhen  they  heard  his  sentences 
of  powerful  thought,  towering  in  accumu 
lative  grandeur,  one  above  the  other,  as 
if  the  orator  strove,  Titan-like,  to  reach 
the  very  heavens  themselves,  they  were 
giddy  with  an  apprehension  that  lie  would 
break  down  in  his  flight.  They  dared  not 
believe,  that  genius,  learning, — any  intel 
lectual  endowment,  however  uncommon, 
that  was  simply  mortal,  —  could  sustain 
itself  long  in  a  career  seemingly  so  peril 
ous.  They  feared  an  Icarian  fall. 

No  one,  surely,  could  ever  forget,  who 
was  present  to  hear,  the  tremendous — the 
awful — burst  of  eloquence  with  which  the 
orator  apostrophized  the  old  Bay  State 
which  Mr.  Hayne  had  so  derided,  or  the 
tones  of  deep  pathos  in  which  her  defense 
was  pronounced :  "  Mr.  President,  I  shall 
enter  on  no  encomium  upon  Massachusetts. 
There  she  is — behold  her  and  judge  for 
yourselves.  There  is  her  history;  the 
world  knows  it  by  heart.  The  past,  at 
least,  is  secure.  There  is  Boston,  and 
Concord,  and  Lexington,  and  Bunker  Hill, 
—  and  there  they  will  remain  forever. 
The  bones  of  her  sons,  falling  in  the  great 
struggle  for  independence,  now  lie  min 
gled  with  the  soil  of  every  state,  from  New 
England  to  Georgia;  and  there  they  will 
lie  forever.  And,  sir,  where  American 
liberty  raised  its  first  voice,  and  where  its 
youth  was  nurtured  and  sustained,  there  it 
still  lives,  in  the  strength  of  its  manhood 
and  full  of  its  original  spirit.  If  discord 
and  disunion  shall  wound  it  —  if  party- 
strife  and  blind  ambition  shall  hawk  at 
and  tear  it — if  folly  and  madness — if  uneas 
iness  under  salutary  and  necessary  re 
straint, — shall  succeed  to  separate  it  from 
that  Union,  by  which  alone  its  existence 
is  made  sure,  it  will  stand,  in  the  end,  by 
the  side  of  that  cradle  in  which  its  infancy 
was  rocked :  it  will  stretch  forth  its  arm 
with  whatever  of  vigor  it  may  still  retain, 
over  the  friends  who  gather  round  it ;  and 
it  will  fall  at  last,  if  fall  it  must,  amidst 
the  proudest  monuments  of  its  own  glory, 


302 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


and  on  the  very  spot  of  its  origin."  No 
New  England  heart  but  throbbed  with 
vehement,  absorbed,  irrepressible  emotion, 
as  Mr.  Webster  thus  dwelt  upon  New 
England  sufferings,  New  England  strug 
gles,  and  New  England  triumphs,  during 
the  war  of  the  revolution.  There  was 
scarcely  a  dry  eye  in  the  senate ;  all  hearts 
were  overcome ;  grave  judges,  and  men 
grown  old  in  dignified  life,  turned  aside 
their  heads,  to  conceal  the  evidences  of 
their  emotion. 

In  one  corner  of  the  gallery  was  clus 
tered  a  group  of  Massachusetts  men. 
They  had  hung  from  the  first  moment 
upon  the  words  of  the  speaker,  with  feel 
ings  variously  but  always  warmly  excited, 
deepening  in  intensity  as  he  proceeded. 
At  first,  while  the  orator  was  going 
through  his  exordium,  they  held  their 
breath  and  hid  their  faces,  mindful  of  the 
fierce  attack  upon  him  and  New  England, 
and  the  fearful  odds  against  any  one 
standing  up  as  a  champion  of  the  latter ; 
as  he  went  deeper  into  his  speech,  they 
felt  easier  ;  when  he  turned  Hayne's  flank 
on  " Banquo's  ghost" — that  famous  rhe 
torical  figure  used  by  the  South  Carolinian, 
—  they  breathed  freer  and  fuller.  But 
anon,  as  he  alluded  to  Massachusetts,  their 
feelings  were  strained  to  the  utmost  ten 
sion ;  and  when  the  senator,  concluding 
his  passages  upon  the  land  of  their  birth, 
turned,  intentionally  or  otherwise,  his 
burning  eye  upon  them,  tears  were  falling 
like  rain  adown  their  cheeks. 

No  one  who  was  not  present  can  under 
stand  the  excitement  of  the  scene.  No 
one,  who  was,  can  give  an  adequate  de 
scription  of  it.  No  word-painting  can 
convey  the  deep,  intense  enthusiasm, — the 
reverential  attention,  of  that  vast  assem 
bly, — nor  limner  transfer  to  canvas  their 
earnest,  eager,  awe-struck  countenances. 
Though  language  were  as  subtle  and  flex 
ible  as  thought,  it  still  would  be  impossi 
ble  to  represent  the  full  idea  of  the  occa 
sion. 

Much  of  the  instantaneous  effect  of  the 
speech  arose,  of  course,  from  the  orator's 
delivery — the  tones  of  his  voice,  his  coun 


tenance,  and  manner.  These  die  mostly 
with  the  occasion  ;  they  can  only  be 
described  in  general  terms.  '•  Of  the 
effectiveness  of  Mr.  Webster's  manner,  in 
many  parts,"  says  Mr.  Everett,  himself 
almost  without  a  peer,  as  an  orator,  ''  it 
would  be  in  vain  to  attempt  to  give  any 
one  not  present  the  faintest  idea.  It  has 
been  my  fortune  to  hear  some  of  the  ablest 
speeches  of  the  greatest  living  orators  on 
both  sides  of  the  water,  but  I  must  confess 
I  never  heard  anything  which  so  com 
pletely  realized  my  conception  of  what 
Demosthenes  was  when  he  delivered  the 
Oration  for  the  Crown."  There  could  be 
no  higher  praise  than  this.  Kean  nor 
Kemble,  nor  any  other  masterly  delineator 
of  the  human  passions,  ever  produced  a 
more  powerful  impression  upon  an  audi 
ence,  or  swayed  so  completely  their  hearts. 

No  one  ever  looked  the  orator,  as  he  did, 
— in  form  and  feature  how  like  a  god  !  His 
countenance  spake  no  less  audibly  than  his 
words.  His  manner  gave  new  force  to  his 
language.  As  he  stood  swaying  his  right 
arm,  like  a  huge  tilt-hammer,  up  and 
down,  his  swarthy  countenance  lighted  up 
with  excitement,  he  appeared  amid  the 
smoke,  the  fire,  the  thunder  of  his  elo 
quence,  like  Vulcan  in  his  armory  forging 
thoughts  for  the  gods !  Time  had  not 
thinned  nor  bleached  his  liair;  it  was  as 
dark  as  the  raven's  plumage,  surmounting 
his  massive  brow  in  ample  lolds.  His  eye, 
always  dark  and  deep-set,  enkindled  by 
some  glowing  thought,  shone  from  beneath 
his  somber,  overhanging  brow  like  lights, 
in  the  blackness  of  night,  from  a  sepul 
chre.  No  one  understood,  better  than  Mr. 
Webster,  the  philosophy  of  dress; — what  a 
powerful  auxiliary  it  is  to  speech  and 
manner,  when  harmonizing  with  them. 
On  this  occasion  he  appeared  in  a  blue 
coat,  a  buff  vest,  black  pants,  and  white 
cravat,  a  costume  strikingly  in  keeping 
with  his  face  and  expression. 

The  human  face  never  wore  an  expres 
sion  of  more  withering,  relentless  scorn, 
than  when  the  orator  replied  to  Hayne's 
allusion  to  the  "  murdered  coalition," — a 
piece  of  stale  political  trumpery,  "well 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


303 


understood  at  that  day.  "  It  is,"  said  Mr. 
Webster,  "the  very  cast-off  slough  of  a 
polluted  and  shameless  press.  Incapable 
of  further  mischief,  it  lies  in  the  sewer, 
lifeless  and  despised.  It  is  not  now,  sir, 
in  the  power  of  the  honorable  member  to 
give  it  dignity  or  decency,  by  attempting 
to  elevate  it,  and  introduce  it  into  the 
senate.  He  cannot  change  it  from  what 
it  is — an  object  of  general  disgust  and 
scorn.  On  the  contrary,  the  contact,  if  he 
choose  to  touch  it,  is  more  likely  to  drag 
him  down,  down  to  the  place  where  it  lies 
itself ! "  He  looked,  as  he  spoke  these 
words,  as  if  the  thing  he  alluded  to  was 
too  mean  for  scorn  itself,  and  the  sharp, 
stinging  enunciation,  made  the  words  still 
more  scathing.  The  audience  seemed 
relieved, — so  crushing  was  the  expression 
of  his  face  which  they  held  on  to,  as  'twere, 
spell-bound,  —  when  he  turned  to  other 
topics. 

But  the  good-natured  yet  provoking 
irony  with  which  he  described  the  imagin 
ary  though  life-like  scene  of  direct  collision 
between  the  marshaled  army  of  South 
Carolina  under  General  Hayne  on  the  one 
side,  and  the  officers  of  the  United  States 
on  the  other,  nettled  his  opponent  even 
more  than  his  severer  satire;  it  seemed  so 
ridiculously  true.  With  his  true  Southern 
blood,  Hayne  inquired,  with  some  degree 
of  emotion,  if  the  gentleman  from  Massa 
chusetts  intended  any  personal  imputation 
by  such  remarks?  To  which  Mr.  Web 
ster  replied,  with  perfect  good  humor, 
"  Assuredly  not — just  the  reverse  !  " 

The  variety  of  incident  during  the 
speech,  and  the  rapid  fluctuation  of  pas 
sions,  kept  the  audience  in  continual 
expectation,  and  ceaseless  agitation.  The 
speech  was  a  complete  drama  of  serious, 
comic,  and  pathetic  scenes ;  and  though  a 
large  portion  of  it  was  strictly  argumenta 
tive — an  exposition  of  constitutional  law, 
— yet,  grave  as  such  portion  necessarily 
must  be,  severely  logical,  and  abounding 
in  no  fancy  or  episode,  it  engrossed, 
throughout,  undivided  attention. 

The  swell  of  his  voice  and  its  solemn 
roll  struck  upon  the  ears  of  the  enraptured 


audience,  in  deep  and  thrilling  cadence,  as 
waves  upon  the  shore  of  the  far-resound 
ing  sea.  The  Miltonic  grandeur  of  his 
words  was  the  fit  expression  of  his  great 
thoughts,  and  raised  his  hearers  up  to  his 
theme  ;  and  his  voice,  exerted  to  its  utmost 
power,  penetrated  every  recess  or  corner 
of  the  senate — penetrated  even  the  ante 
rooms  and  stairways,  as,  in  closing,  he 
pronounced  in  deepest  tones  of  pathos 
these  words  of  solemn  significance : 
"When  my  eyes  shall  be  turned  to  behold, 
for  the  last  time,  the  sun  in  heaven,  may 
I  not  see  him  shining  on  the  broken  and 
dishonored  fragments  of  a  once  glorious 
Union ;  on  states  dissevered,  discordant, 
belligerent;  on  a  land  rent  with  civil 
feuds,  or  drenched,  it  may  be,  in  fraternal 
blood!  Let  their  last  feeble  and  lingering 
glance  rather  behold  the  gorgeous  ensign 
of  the  republic,  now  known  and  honored 
throughout  the  earth,  still  full  high 
advanced,  its  arms  and  trophies  streaming 
in  their  original  luster,  not  a  stripe  erased 
nor  polluted,  not  a  single  star  obscured, 
bearing  for  its  motto  no  such  miserable 
interrogatory  as,  "  What  is  all  this  worth  ?" 
— nor  those  other  words  of  delusion  and 
folly,  "  Liberty  first  and  Union  after 
wards  :  "  but  everywhere,  spread  all  over 
in  characters  of  living  light,  blazing  on  all 
its  ample  folds,  as  they  float  over  the  sea 
and  over  the  land,  and  in  every  wind 
under  the  whole  heavens,  that  other  senti 
ment,  dear  to  every  American  heart, 
"LIBERTY  AND  UNION,  NOW  AND  FOR 
EVER,  ONE  AND  INSEPARABLE ! " 

The  speech  was  over,  but  the  tones  of 
the  orator  still  lingered  upon  the  ear,  and 
the  audience,  unconscious  of  the  close, 
retained  their  positions.  Everywhere 
around  seemed  forgetfulness  of  all  but  the 
orator's  presence  and  words.  There  never 
was  a  deeper  stillness;  silence  could  almost 
have  heard  itself,  it  was  so  supernaturally 
still.  The  feeling  was  too  overpowering, 
to  allow  expression  by  voice  or  hand.  It 
was  as  if  one  was  in  a  trance,  all  motion 
paralyzed.  But  the  descending  hammer 
of  the  chair  awoke  them,  with  a  start ;  and 
with  one  universal,  long  drawn,  deep 


304 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


WEBSTER'S  REPLY  TO  HAYXE. 


breath,  with  which  the  overcharged  heart 
seeks  relief,  the  crowded  assembly  broke 
up  and  departed. 

New  England  men  walked  down  Penn 
sylvania  avenue  that  day,  after  the  speech, 
with  a  firmer  step  and  bolder  air — '  pride 
in  their  port,  defiance  in  their  eye.'  They 
devoured  the  way  in  their  stride.  They 
looked  every  one  in  the  face  they  met, 
fearing  no  contradiction.  They  swarmed 
in  the  streets,  having  become  miraculously 
multitudinous.  They  clustered  in  parties 
and  fought  the  scene  over  one  hundred 
times  that  night.  Their  elation  was 
the  greater,  by  reaction.  Not  one  of 
them  but  felt  he  had  gained  a  personal 
victory. 

In  the  evening,  General  Jackson  held  a 
presidential  levee  at  the  White  House.  It 
was  known,  in  advance,  that  Mr.  Webster 
would  attend  it,  and  hardly  had  the  hos 
pitable  doors  of  the  mansion  been  thrown 
open,  when  the  crowd  that  had  filled  the 
senate-chamber  in  the  morning  rushed  in 


and  occupied  the  rooms,  leaving  a  vast 
and  increasing  crowd  at  the  entrance. 
On  all  previous  occasions,  the  general 
himself  had  been  the  observed  of  all 
observers.  His  receptions  were  always 
gladly  attended  by  large  numbers ;  and 
to  these  he  himself  was  always  the  chief 
object  of  attraction,  on  account  of  his 
great  military  and  personal  reputation, 
official  position,  gallant  bearing,  and 
courteous  manners. 

But  on  this  occasion,  the  room  in  which 
he  received  his  company  was  deserted,  as 
soon  as  courtesy  to  the  president  permitted. 
Mr.  Webster  was  in  the  East  Room,  and 
thither  the  whole  mass  hurried.  He  stood 
almost  in  the  center  of  the  room,  pressed 
upon  by  surging  crowds,  eager  to  pay  him 
deference.  Hayne,  too,  was  there,  and,with 
others,  went  up  and  complimented  Mr.  Web 
ster  on  his  brilliant  effort.  In  a  subsequent 
meeting  between  the  two  rival  debaters, 
Webster  challenged  Hayne  to  drink  a  glass 
of  wine  with  him,  saying,  as  he  did  so, — 


GKEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


305 


"  General  Hayne,  I  drink  to  your  health, 
and  I  hope  that  you  may  live  a  thousand 
years." 

'•  I  shall  not  live  more  than  one  hundred, 
if  you  make  another  such  speech,"  Hayne 
replied. 

To  this  day,  Webster's  speech  is  re 
garded  as  the  masterpiece  of  modern  elo 
quence, — unsurpassed  by  even  the  might 
iest  efforts  of  Pitt,  Fox,  or  Burke, —  a 
matchless  intellectual  achievement  and 
complete  forensic  triumph.  It  was  to  this 
great  and  triumphant  effort,  that  Mr. 
Webster's  subsequent  matchless  fame  as  a 
statesman  was  due ;  and,  that  he  was 
equal  to  comprehending  the  true  principles 
of  international,  as  well  as  those  of  inter 
nal,  justice  and  policy,  is  abundantly 
proved  by  his  diplomacy  with  Great  Brit 
ain,  to  which  the  highest  credit  is  awarded 
by  Eliot,  the  accomplished  historian,  in  his 
concise  and  admirable  review  of  public 
affairs  during  this  period.  An  insurrec 
tion  (says  Mr.  Eliot)  having  broken  out 
in  Canada,  it  was  immediately  supported 
by  American  parties,  the  insurgents  being 
in  favor  of  reform  or  independence.  One 
of  these  American  parties,  in  company 
with  some  Canadian  refugees,  after  pillag 
ing  the  New  York  arsenals,  seized  upon 
Navy  Island,  a  British  possession  in  the 
Niagara  river.  Mr.  Marcy  was  governor 
of  New  York  at  this  time.  The  steamer 
Caroline,  engaged  in  bringing  over  men, 
arms,  and  stores  to  the  island,  was  de 
stroyed,  though  at  the  time  on  the  Ameri 
can  shore,  by  a  Britsh  detachment.  The 
deed  was  instantly  avowed  by  the  minister 
of  Great  Britain  at  Washington  as  an  act 
of  self-defense  on  the  British  side.  One 
of  the  chief  characters  in  these  exciting 
movements  was  William  M'Kenzie.  In 
November,  1840,  one  Alexander  M'Leod, 


sheriff  of  Niagara,  in  Canada,  and  as  such 
a  participator  in  the  destruction  of  the 
Caroline,  was  arrested  in  New  York  on 
the  charge  of  murder,  an  American  having 
lost  his  life  when  the  steamer  was  de 
stroyed.  The  British  government  de 
manded  his  release,  in  doing  which  they 
were  sustained  by  the  United  States 
administration,  on  the  ground  that  M'Leod 
was  but  an  agent  or  soldier  of  Great  Brit 
ain.  But  the  authorities  of  New  York 
held  fast  to  their  prisoner,  and  brought 
him  to  trial.  Had  harm  come  to  him,  his 
government  stood  pledged  to  declare  war ; 
but  he  was  acquitted  for  want  of  proof. 
The  release  of  M'Leod  did  not,  however, 
settle  the  affair  of  the  Caroline  ;  this  still 
remained.  There  were,  or  there  had  been, 
other  difficulties  also, — namely,  upon  the 
Maine  frontier,  where  the  boundary-line 
had  never  yet  been  run.  Collisions  took 
place,  between  the  Maine  militia  and  the 
British  troops,  and  others  had  been  but 
just  prevented.  On  Mr.  Webster's  acces 
sion  to  the  state  department,  our  govern 
ment  proposed,  through  Mr.  Webster,  to 
the  British  cabinet,  to  take  up  the  north 
eastern  boundary  question.  The  offer  was 
accepted  by  the  British,  who  sent,  as  spe 
cial  envoy,  Lord  Ashburton,  to  whom  was 
committed  the  boundary  and  other  contro 
verted  questions.  The  consultations  be 
tween  Mr.  Webster  and  Lord  Ashburton 
led  to  a  treaty  which  settled  the  boundary, 
put  down  the  claim  to  visit  our  vessels, 
and  provided  for  the  mutual  surrender  of 
fugitives  from  justice.  For  the  affair  of 
the  Caroline,  an  apology  was  made  by 
Great  Britain. 

The  fame  of  Mr.  Webster,  as  an 
orator,  a  statesman,  and  an  expounder  of 
public  law,  thus  became  world-wide  and 
unrivaled. 


20 


XXXIII. 

RISE  AND  PROGRESS  OF  THE  MORMONS,  OR  "LATTER- 
DAY    SAINTS,"   UNDER    JOSEPH    SMITH,  THE 
"  PROPHET  OF  THE  LORD."— 1830. 


His  Assumed  Discovery  of  the  Golden  Plates  of  a  New  Bible. — Apostles  Sent  Forth  and  Converts 
Obtained  in  All  Parts  of  the  World. — Founding  and  Destruction  of  Nauvoo,  the  "  City  of  Zion." — 
Smith's  Character. — Removal  to  Utah,  the  "Promised  Land."  —  Smith  the  "Mohammed 
of  the  West." — His  Origin  and  Repute. — Pretended  Supernatural  Interviews. — Revela 
tions  of  Divine  Records. — Finds  and  Translates  Them. — Secret  History  of  this  Transaction. 
— Pronounced  to  be  a  Fraud. — Teachings  of  the  Mormon  Bible. — Smith  Claims  to  be  Inspired. — 
Announced  as  a  Second  Savior. —  Organization  of  the  First  Church. — Strange  Title  Adopted. — 
Smith's  Great  Personal  Influence. — Rapid  Increase  of  the  Sect. — Settlement  at  the  West. — 
Violent  Opposition  to  Them. — Outrages,  Assassinations,  Riots. —  Polygamy  "Divinely"  Author 
ized.— Smith  in  Jail  as  a  Criminal. — Is  Shot  Dead  by  a  Furious  Mob. — Brigham  Young  His  Suc 
cessor. — The  "  New  Jerusalem." 


— "  And  with  a  niece  of  scripture 
Tell  thpin.-that  God  bids  us  do  P<KK|  for  eril. 

And  thus  I  clothe  my  naked  villninv 
With  old  odd  ende,  «tol'n  forth  of  Holy  "Writ, 
And  seem  a  saint,  when  most  I  play  the  devil." 


F  the  many  oracular  predictions  indulged  in  by  trans-Atlantic  wiseacres, 
concerning  the  future  of  American  history,  not  one  of  them  has  had 
so  accurate  and  remarkable  a  fulfillment  as  that  made  by  llobert 
Southey,  the  great  English  poet  and  historian,  in  1829,  and  which 
ran  as  follows :  t(  The  next  Aaron  Burr  who  seeks  to  carve 
a  kingdom  for  himself  out  of  the  overgrown  territories  of 
.  the  Union,  may  discern  that  fanaticism  is  the  most  effective 
weapon  with  which  ambition  can  arm  itself;  that  the  way  for 
both  is  prepared  by  that  immorality  which  the  want  of  religion  naturally  and 
necessarily  induces,  and  that  camp-meetings  may  be  very  well  directed  to  forward  the 
designs  of  military  prophets.  Were  there  another  Mohammed  to  arise,  there  is  no 
part  of  the  world  where  he  would  find  more  scope  or  fairer  opportunity  than  in  that 
part  of  the  Anglo-American  Union  into  which  the  older  states  continually  discharge  the 
restless  part  of  their  population,  leaving  laws  and  Gospel  to  overtake  it  if  they  can,  for 
in  the  march  of  modern  civilization  both  are  left  behind."  This  prophecy  was  uttered 
long  before  even  the  name  of  'Mormon'  had  been  heard  in  the  west,  and,  bating  the 
hermit-poet's  very  natural  fling  at  camp-meetings,  and  his  English  cant  about  American 
immorality,  is  worthy  of  a  seer. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


307 


Joseph  Smith,  the  Mohammed  of  the 
West, — founder  of  the  sect  called  Mor 
mons,  or  Latter-Day  Saints, — was  horn  in 
Sharon,  Vermont,  December  23,  1805,  and 
met  a  violent  death  at  Carthage,  Illinois, 
in  his  thirty-ninth  year.  In  1815,  he  re 
moved  with  his  father  to  Palmyra,  New 
York,  and  here  they  sustained  an  unen 
viable  reputation,  for  idleness,  intemper 
ance,  dishonesty,  and  other  immoralities. 
Joseph  was  especially  obnoxious  in  these 
respects  ;  and,  having  never  received  any 
education,  he  could  scarcely  so  much  as 
read  and  write  when  he  had  attained  to 
manhood,  and  whatever  he  put  forth  to  the 
world,  under  his  own  name,  was  written 
or  composed  by  another  hand. 

According  to  his  own  account  of  him 
self,  his  mind  was  at  a  very  early  age 
exercised  religiously,  and,  on  the  evening 
of  September  21st,  when  he  was  but 
eighteen  years  old,  the  angel  Moroni — a 
glorious  being  from  Heaven  —  appeared 
before  him,  as  a  messenger  from  the 
Lord,  instructing  him  in  the  secret  pur 
poses  of  the  Most  High,  and  announcing 
the  divine  will  to  be  that  he,  Smith, 
should  become  a  spiritual  leader  and  com 
mander  to  the  nations  of  the  earth.  He 
was  also  told  that  there  was  a  bundle  of 
golden  or  metallic  plates  deposited  in  a 
hill  in  Manchester,  New  York  (to  which 
place  Smith  had  removed  in  1819),  which 
plates  contained  some  lost  biblical  records, 
and  with  which  were  two  transparent 
stones,  set  in  the  rim  of  a  bow  of  silver, 
which  were  anciently  known  as  the  Urim 
and  Thummim  ;  by  looking  through  these 
stones,  he  could  see  the  strange  characters 
on  the  plates  translated  into  plain  English. 
These  plates  were  about  eight  inches  long 
by  seven  wide,  and  a  little  thinner  than 
ordinary  tin,  and  were  bound  together  by 
three  rings  running  through  the  whole. 
Altogether  they  were  about  six  inches 
thick,  and  were  neatly  engraved  on  each 
side  with  hieroglyphics  in  a  language 
called  the  Reformed  Egyptian,  not  then 
known  on  the  earth.  From  these  plates, 
Smith,  sitting  behind  a  blanket  hung 
across  the  room  to  keep  the  sacred  records 


from  profane  eyes,  read  off,  through  the 
transparent  stones,  the  "Book  of  Mor 
mon,"  or  Golden  Bible,  to  Oliver  Cowdery, 
who  wrote  it  down  as  Smith  read  it.  It 
was  printed  in  1830,  in  a  volume  of 
several  hundred  pages.  Appended  to  it 
was  a  statement  signed  by  Oliver  Cow 
dery,  David  Whitmer,  and  Martin  Harris, 
who  had  become  professed  believers  in 
Smith's  supernatural  pretensions,  and  are 
called  by  the  Mormons,  the  "three  wit 
nesses."  In  after  years,  however,  these 
witnesses  quarreled  with  Smith,  renounced 
Mormonism,  and  avowed  the  falsity  of 
their  testimony. 

It  is  charged  by  the  opponents  of 
Smith,  that  the  book  in  question  was  not 
the  production  of  Smith,  in  any  wise,  but 
of  the  Rev.  Solomon  Spalding,  who  wrote 
it  as  a  sort  of  romance,  and  that  it  was 
seen  and  stolen  by  Sidney  Rigdon,  after 
wards  Smith's  right-hand  man.  Spalding 
had  become  involved  in  his  pecuniary 
affairs,  and  wrote  this  work,  intending  to 
have  it  printed  and  published,  and  with 
the  proceeds  to  pay  his  debts.  The  book 
was  entitled  "Manuscript  Found."  It 
was  an  historical  romance  of  the  first  set 
tlers  of  America,  endeavoring  to  show  that 
the  American  Indians  are  the  descendants 
of  the  Jews  or  the  lost  tribes.  It  gave  a 
detailed  account  of  their  journey  from 
Jerusalem,  by  land  and  sea,  till  they 
arrived  in  America  under  the  command  of 
Nephi  and  Lehi.  They  afterward  had 
quarrels  and  contentions,  and  separated 
into  two  distinct  nations,  one  of  which  he 
denominated  Nephites  and  the  other  Lam- 
anites.  Cruel  and  bloody  wars  ensued,  in 
which  great  multitudes  were  slain.  They 
buried  their  dead  in  large  heaps,  which 
caused  the  mounds,  so  common  in  this 
country.  Their  arts,  sciences,  and  civiliz 
ation  were  brought  into  view,  in  order  to 
account  for  all  the  curious  antiquities, 
found  in  various  parts  of  North  and  South 
America.  Abundant  testimony  was  ad 
duced  from  the  wife,  brother,  and  business 
partner  of  Spalding,  to  whom  portions  of 
the  work  had  been  read  while  it  was  in 
course  of  preparation,  proving  that  the 


308 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Mormon  bible  was  made  up  of  identically 
the  same  matter,  combined  with  portions 
of  the  true  Scripture.  Mr.  Spalding's 
business  partner,  Mr.  Miller,  testified  on 
oath  as  follows : 

'I  have  recently  examined  the  Book  of 
Mormon,  and  find  in  it  the  writings  of 
Solomon  Spalding,  from  beginning  to  end, 
but  mixed  up  with  Scripture  and  other 
religious  matter,  which  I  did  not  meet  in 
the  'Manuscript  Found.'  Many  of  the 
passages  in  the  Mormon  book  are  verbatim 
from  Spalding,  and  others  in  part.  The 
names  of  Nephi,  Lehi,  Moroni,  and  in 
fact  all  the  principal  names,  are  brought 
fresh  to  my  recollection  by  the  gold  bible.' 

Mr.  Spalding  wrote  his  manuscript  in 
1812;  he  afterwards  removed  to  Pitts- 
burg,  Pennsylvania,  where  he  died  in 
1816.  His  manuscript  remained  in  the 
printing-office  a  long  time,  and  in  this 
office  Rigdon  was  a  workman.  There  is 
the  best  evidence,  therefore,  that  the 
so-called  Mormon  bible  had  for  its  basis 
the  matter  contained  in  Mr.  Spalding's 
work.  Rigdon,  however,  had  at  first  no 
open  connection  with  Smith,  and  was  con 
verted  by  a  special  mission  sent  into  his 
neighborhood  in  1830.  From  the  time  of 
Rigdon's  conversion,  the  progress  of  Mor- 
monism  was  wonderfully  rapid,  he  being  a 
man  of  more  than  common  cunning  and 
capacity.  It  may  be  of  interest  here  to 
state,  that  a  transcript  on  paper,  of  one  of 
the  golden  plates,  having  been  submitted 
to  Prof.  Charles  Anthou,  of  New  York, 
for  his  inspection,  that  eminent  scholar 
gave,  as  his  statement,  that  the  paper  was 
in  fact  a  kind  of  singular  scroll,  consisting 
of  all  kinds  of  crooked  characters,  disposed 
in  columns,  and  had  evidently  been  pre 
pared  by  some  person  who  had  before  him 
at  the  time  a  book  containing  various 
alphabets,  Greek,  and  Hebrew  letters, 
crosses  and  flourishes  ;  Roman  letters,  in 
verted  or  placed  sideways,  were  arranged 
and  placed  in  perpendicular  columns;  and 
the  whole  ended  in  a  rude  delineation  of 
a  circle,  divided  into  various  compartments, 
decked  with  various  strange  marks,  and 
evidently  copied  after  the  Mexican  calen 


dar  given   by   Humboldt,    but   copied  in 
such  a  way  as  not  to  betray  the  source. 

The  Mormon  theology  teaches  that 
there  is  one  God,  the  Eternal  Father,  his 
son,  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  Holy  Ghost ; 
that  men  will  be  punished  for  their  own 
sins,  and  not  for  Adam's  transgressions ; 
that  through  the  atonement  of  Christ,  all 
mankind  may  be  saved  by  obedience  to 
the  laws  and  ordinances  of  the  gospel, 
these  ordinances  being  faith  in  the 
Lord  Jesus,  repentance,  baptism  by  im 
mersion  for  the  remission  of  sins,  lay 
ing  on  of  hands  by  the  gift  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  and  the  Lord's  Supper ;  that  man 
must  be  called  of  God  by  inspiration,  and 


by  laying  on  of  hands  from  those  who 
are  duly  commissioned  to  preach  the  gospel 
and  administer  the  ordinances  thereof; 
that  the  same  organization  that  existed 
in  the  primitive  church,  viz.,  apostles, 
prophets,  pastors,  evangelists,  etc.,  should 
be  maintained  now ;  that  the  powers 
and  gifts  of  faith,  discerning  of  spirits, 
prophecy,  revelations,  visions,  healing, 
tongues,  and  the  interpretation  of  tongues, 
still  exist ;  that  the  word  of  God  is 
recorded  in  the  Bible,  and  in  the  Book  of 
Mormon,  and  in  all  other  good  books ; 
that  there  are  now  being  revealed,  and 
will  continue  to  be  revealed,  many  more 
great  and  important  things  pertaining  to 
the  kingdom  of  God  and  Messiah's  second 
coming;  that  there  is  to  be  a  literal 
gathering  of  Israel,  and  the  restoration  ot 
the  ten  tribes ;  that  Zion  will  be  estab- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


309 


lished  upon  the  western  continent;  that 
Christ  will  reign  personally  upon  the 
earth  a  thousand  years,  and  the  earth 
will  be  renewed  and  receive  its  paradisiacal 
glory  ;  that  there  is  to  be  a  literal  resur 
rection  of  the  body,  and  that  the  rest 
of  the  dead  live  not  again  until  the 
thousand  years  have  expired ;  that  the 
privilege  belongs  to  all,  of  unmolested 
worship  of  God,  according  to  the  dictates 
of  conscience  ;  that  all  persons  are  to  be 
subject  to  kings,  queens,  presidents,  rulers, 
and  magistrates,  in  obeying,  honoring,  and 
sustaining  the  law  ;  that  God,  having  be 
come  nearly  lost  to  man,  revived  his  work, 
by  revealing  himself  to  Joseph  Smith,  and 
conferring  upon  him  the  keys  of  the  ever 
lasting  priesthood,  thus  making  him  the 
mediator  of  a  new  dispensation,  which  is 
immediately  to  precede  the  second  coming 
of  Christ ;  that  all  those  who  recognize  the 
divine  authority  of  Smith,  and  are  bap 
tized  by  one  having  authority,  are  the 
chosen  people  of  God,  who  are  to  intro 
duce  the  millennium,  and  to  reign  with 
Christ,  on  the  earth,  a  thousand  years.  The 
doctrine  of  direct  revelation  from  Heaven 
was  at  first  applied  in  a  general  sense,  and 
any  one  firm  in  the  faith,  and  who  stood 
high  in  the  church,  received  visions  and 
revelations.  But  this  soon  became  trouble 
some, — the  revelations  often  clashed  with 
each  other  and  led  to  many  annoyances, 
and  the  power  of  receiving  revelations 
was  therefore,  in  course  of  time,  confined 
to  the  presidency,  in  whom  the  supreme 
authority  of  the  church  rests.  This  presi 
dency  consists  of  the  president  and  his 
two  counselors ;  the  First  President  is, 
however,  supreme,  and  there  is  no  resist 
ance  to  his  decrees.  Next  in  authority  in 
the  church  is  the  apostolic  college,  which 
is  composed  of  twelve  apostles,  who  form 
a  kind  of  ecclesiastical  senate,  but  a  por 
tion  of  them  are  generally  on  missions, 
taking  charge  of  the  different  branches  of 
the  church  in  other  parts  of  the  world. 
After  these  come  the  high  priests,  who, 
together  with  the  elders,  compose  the 
body  politic  of  the  church,  whose  duty  it 
is  to  carry  out  and  enforce  its  decrees  and 


regulations.  These  high  priests  and  elders 
are  divided  into  societies,  called  quorums 
of  seventies,  and  every  quorum  preserves 
on  its  records  a  complete  genealogy  of 
each  of  its  members. 

Among  the  dignitaries  of  the  church, 
the  patriarch  stands  eminent.  He  holds 
his  office  for  life;  all  other  stations  are 
filled  with  candidates  nominated  by  the 
presidency  and  elected  annually  in  con 
vention  by  the  body  of  the  church.  The 
bishops  also  are  conspicuous  and  important 
officers,  for  it  is  their  duty  to  collect  the 
tithing,  to  inspect  once  a  week  every 
family  in  their  ward  or  district,  and  to 
examine  strictly  into  their  temporal  and 
spiritual  affairs.  In  order  to  do  this  more 
thoroughly,  each  bishop  is  assisted  by  two 
counselors.  The  bishop  also  adjudicates 
and  settles  all  difficulties  occurring  be 
tween  persons  residing  in  his  ward,  though 
from  his  decision  an  appeal  can  be  made 
to  the  high  council.  This  is  a  tribunal 
consisting  of  fifteen  men  selected  from 
among  the  high  priests,  twelve  of  whom 
sit  as  jurors  and  hear  the  testimony  of 
witnesses  in  the  case,  and  then  by  voting 
make  a  decision — a  majority  on  one  side 
or  the  other  deciding  the  question ;  the 
remaining  three,  as  judges,  render  judg 
ment  as  to  the  costs  or  punishment.  From 
this  court  the  only  appeal  is  to  the  presi 
dency. 

The  first  regularly  constituted  church 
of  the  Mormon  faith  was  organized  in 
Manchester,  N.  Y.,  April  sixth,  1830,  and 
from  this  time  and  event  dates  the  Mor 
mon  era.  It  began  with  six  members  or 
elders  being  ordained,  viz.,  Joseph  Smith, 
sen.,  Hyrum  Smith,  Joseph  Smith,  jr., 
Samuel  Smith,  Oliver  Cowdery,  Joseph 
Knight.  The  sacrament  was  adminis 
tered,  and  hands  were  laid  on  for  the  gift 
of  the  Holy  Ghost  on  this  first  occasion  in 
the  church.  The  first  public  discourse 
was  preached  by  Cowdery,  setting  forth 
the  principles  of  the  gospel  as  revealed  to 
Smith,  April  eleventh;  and  during  the 
same  month  the  first  miracle  was  per 
formed,  "  by  the  power  of  God,"  in  Coles- 
ville,  N.  Y. 


310 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


On  the  first  of  June,  1830,  the  first  con 
ference  of  the  church  was  held  at  Fayette, 
N.  Y.,  and  soon  after,  Messrs.  Pratt  and 
Rigdon  united  publicly  with  the  order. 
Meanwhile,  converts  multiplied  rapidly. 

Early  in  1831,  Smith  set  out  for  Kirt- 
land,  Ohio,  which,  for  a  time,  became  the 
chief  city  of  his  followers.  The  elders 
soon  received  command  to  go  forth  in  pairs 
and  preach,  the  Melchizedek  or  superior 
priesthood  being  first  conferred  upon  them 
in  June.  A  considerable  body  of  Mor 
mons  transferred  themselves  to  Jackson 
county,  Missouri,  in  the  summer  of  this 
year.  So  rapidly  did  their  numbers  aug 
ment  in  this  region,  that  the  older  settlers 
became  alarmed,  and  held  public  meetings 
protesting  against  the  continuance  of  the 
sect  in  their  neighborhood.  Among  the 
resolutions  passed  at  these  meetings  was 
one  requiring  the  Mormon  paper  to  be 
stopped,  but,  as  this  was  not  immediately 
complied  with,  the  office  of  the  paper  was 
destroyed.  Finally,  they  agreed  to  re 
move  from  that  county  into  Clay  county, 
across  the  Missouri,  before  doing  which, 


however,  houses  were  destroyed,  men 
whipped,  and  some  lives  were  lost  on  both 
sides. 

These  outrages,  according  to  the  annals 
given  by  Perkins,  kindled  the  wrath  of 
the  prophet  at  Kirtland,  who  took  steps  to 
bring  about  a  great  gathering  of  his 


disciples,  and,  marshaling  them  as  an 
army,  in  May,  1834,  he  started  for  Mis 
souri,  which  in  due  time  he  reached,  but 
with  no  other  result  than  the  transfer  of  a 
certain  portion  of  his  followers  as  per 
manent  residents  in  a  section  already  too 
full  of  them.  At  first,  the  citizens  of 
Clay  county  were  friendly  to  the  perse 
cuted  ;  but  ere  long,  trouble  grew  up,  and 
the  wanderers  were  once  more  forced  to 
seek  a  new  home,  to  insure  their  safety. 
This  home  the}'  found  in  Caldwell  county, 
where,  by  permission  of  the  neighbors  and 
state  legislature,  they  organized  a  county 
government,  the  country  having  been  pre 
viously  unsettled. 

In  addition  to  the  stirring  scenes  al 
ready  recorded,  some  of  the  more'important 
events  in  the  history  and  continued  prog 
ress  of  this  sect  may  be  stated  briefly  as 
follows.  The  year  1832  was  distinguished 
by  the  tarring  and  feathering  of  Smith 
and  Rigdon  by  a  mob,  for  attempting  to 
establish  communism,  and  for  alleged  dis 
honorable  dealing,  forgery,  and  swindling, 
in  connection  with  the  Kirtland  Safety 
Society  Bank,  founded  by  them ; 
the  conversion  of  Mr.  Brigham 
Young,  and  his  baptism  by  Eleazer 
Millard,  also  the  baptism  of  Mr. 
Heber  C.  Kimball ;  and  the  es 
tablishment  of  the  first  Mormon 
periodical,  by  Mr.  W.  W.  Phelps. 
In  1833,  the  gift  of  tongues 
was  conferred;  the  re-translation 
of  the  bible  finished;  Bishop 
Partridge  became  the  ecclesias 
tical  head  of  the  church  in  Zion ; 
the  'Missouri  Enquirer'  was  es 
tablished  by  Messrs.  Davis  and 
Kelley.  At  a  conference  of 
elders  in  Kirtland,  May  3,  1834, 
the  body  ecclesiastic  was  first 
named  "The  Church  of  Jesus 
Christ  of  Latter-Day  Saints."  In  1835, 
a  quorum  of  twelve  apostles  was  organized, 
among  whom  were  Brigham  Young  and 
H.  C.  Kimball,  the  former,  being  then 
thirty-four  years  old,  assuming  the  head 
ship  of  the  apostolic  college,  and,  receiv 
ing  the  gift  of  tongues,  was  sent  on  a 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


311 


missionary  tour  toward  the  east.  Young 
was  so  devoted  a  disciple  of  Mormonism, 
that  he  said  of  Smith,  its  founder : 

"  The  doctrine  he  teaches  is  all  I  know 
about  the  matter ;  bring  anything  against 
that,  if  you  can.  As  to  anything  else,  I 
do  not  care  if  he  acts  like  a  devil ;  he  has 
brought  forth  a  doctrine  that  will  save  us, 
if  we  will  abide  by  it.  He  may  get  drunk 
every  day  of  his  life,  sleep  with  his  neigh 
bor's  wife  every  night,  run  horses  and 
gamble ;  I  do  not  care  anything  about 
that,  for  I  never  embrace  any  man  in  my 
faith." 

Rigdon  was  equally  bold  and  lawless  ; 
who  declared,  in  behalf  of  the  prophet  and 
his  followers,  in  a  sermon  preached  at 
Far  West,  to  a  great  concourse, 

"  We  take  God  and  all  the  holy  angels 
to  witness  this  day,  that  we  warn  all  men, 
in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ,  to  come  on 
us  no  more  forever.  The  man,  or  the  set 
of  men,  who  attempts  it,  does  it  at  the 
expense  of  their  lives.  And  that  mob  that 
comes  OH  us  to  disturb  us,  it  shall  be 
between  them  and  us  a  war  of  extermina 
tion,  for  we  will  follow  them  till  the  last 
drop  of  their  blood  is  spilled,  or  else  they 
will  have  to  exterminate  us.  For  we  will 
carry  the  seat  of  war  to  their  own  houses 
and  their  own  families,  and  one  party  or 
the  other  shall  be  utterly  destroyed." 

On  the  20th  of  July,  1837,  Elders  Kim- 
ball,  Hyde,  Richards,  Goodson,  Russell, 
and  Priest  Fielding,  sailed  from  New 
York  for  Liverpool,  to  preach  and  propa 
gate  Mormonism,  and  proselytes  multi 
plied,  especially  in  northern  Europe,  so 
plausibly  was  Smith's  imposture  set  be 
fore  them ;  multitudes  of  these  converts, 
male  and  female,  emigrated  to  the  "prom 
ised  land."  The  next  year  was  dis 
tinguished  by  continued  scenes  of  violence, 
attended  with  bloodshed  and  death,  be- 
\veen  the  people  of  Missouri  and  the 
Mormons,  among  the  killed  being  Captain 
Fearnot,  alias  Patten,  leader  of  the  Danite 
band.  Smith,  and  his  brother  Hyrum, 
together  with  such  kindred  spirits  as 
Young,  Phelps,  Pratt,  Hedlock,  Turley, 
Rockwell,  Higbee,  were  particularly  ob 


noxious  to  the  hatred  of  the  Missourians; 
and,  throughout  all  the  western  states,  no 
curse  that  could  come  upon  a  neighbor 
hood  was  considered  so  great  as  that  of  the 
advent  of  Mormon  settlers. 

Early  in  the  summer  of  1839,  Smith 
visited  the  town  of  Commerce,  in  Illinois, 
at  the  invitation  of  Dr.  Isaac  Galland,  of 
whom  he  obtained,  gratis,  a  large  tract  of 
land,  to  induce  the  Mormons  to  immigrate, 
and  upon  receipt  of  revelation  called  his 
people  around  him,  and  sold  them  the 
town  lots.  This  place  was  afterward  called 
Nauvoo,  "the  beautiful  site,"  and  soon 
numbered  thousands  of  souls ;  the  build 
ing  of  the  famous  temple  was  commenced 
the  next  year.  Polygamy  dates  from 
about  this  time,  being  authorized  as 
Smith's  privilege,  according  to  a  "  revela 
tion  "  received  by  him.  Smith  was  re 
peatedly  arrested  in  1842-3—4,  on  charges 
of  murder,  treason,  and  adultery,  but 
managed  either  to  escape  or  be  acquitted, 
until  the  fatal  summer  of  1844.  The 
greatest  crimes  charged  against  him  were 
those  testified  to  by  some  of  his  once 
devoted  but  afterwards  disgusted  and 
seceding  disciples,  and  who  would  have 
been  glad  to  execute  summary  vengeance 
upon  his  head. 

The  exasperation  produced  by  the  Mor 
mons  murdering  Lieutenant  Governor 
Boggs  (under  Governor  Dunklin),  of  Mis 
souri,  in  May,  1843,  was  widespread  and 
most  intense,  and  the  swarming  of  the 
sect  into  Illinois,  caused  the  inhabitants  of 
the  latter  to  arm  themselves.  Governor 
Ford,  of  Illinois,  persuaded  the  Smiths, 
under  pledge  of  his  word,  to  yield  up  their 
arms,  and  sent  them  prisoners,  under 
the  charge  of  sixty  militia  men,  to  Car 
thage.  Here  the  prisoners  were  at  once 
arrested  for  treason.  Instead  of  being 
confined  in  cells,  the  two  Smiths,  at  the 
instance  of  their  friends,  were  put  into 
the  debtors'  room  of  the  prison,  and  a 
guard  assigned  for  their  security.  But, 
on  the  27th  of  June,  1844,  a  large  body 
of  exasperated  and  lawless  men,  with  their 
faces  painted  and  blackened,  broke  into 
the  jail,  and  summarily  killed  both  Joseph 


312 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


and  Hyrum  Smith,  and  instantly  fled.  In 
his  struggle  against  the  mob,  the  prophet 
attempted,  as  a  last  resort,  to  leap  from  the 
window,  when  two  balls  pierced  him  from 
the  door,  one  of  which  entered  his  right 
breast,  and  he  staggered  lifeless,  exclaim 
ing,  '  0  Lord,  my  God!1  He  fell  on  his 
left  side,  a  dead  man.  The  excitement  in 
all  parts  of  the  west,  following  this  event, 
was  tremendous. 

An  address  was  now  sent  forth  to  "all 
the  saints  in  the  world,"  announcing,  with 
lamentations,  the  death  of  "the  Lord's 
Prophet."  Brigham  Young,  a  native  of 
Whittingham,  Vt.,  succeeded  to  the  presi 
dency,  thus  defeating  Itigdon,  who  claimed 
the  office,  hut  who  was  forthwith  cut  off, 
and  delivered  over  to  the  'bufferings  of 
Satan.'  The  next  great  step  was  the 
abandonment  of  Nauvoo,  on  account  of  the 
bitter  hostility  of  the  Illinoisians  to  the 
existence  of  Mormonism  in  their  midst. 
Nauvoo  was  a  city  regularly  laid  out  with 
broad  streets  crossing  at  right  angles,  and 
the  houses  were  built  generally  of  logs. 
with  a  few  frame  and  brick  buildings 
interspersed.  A  temple,  one  hundred  and 
thirty  feet  long  by  ninety  wide,  was 


erected  of  polished  limestone ;  the  bap 
tistry  was  in  the  basement,  and  held  a 
large  stone  basin  supported  by  twelve 
colossal  oxen.  In  1848,  this  building  was 
set  on  fire  by  an  incendiary,  and  all  con 
sumed  except  the  walls,  which  were  finally 
destroyed  by  a  tornado,  in  1850. 

The   valley  of  the   Great  Salt  Lake,  in 
Utah,    now  became    the   new    "promised 


land  "  of  the  exiled  Mormons,  and,  cross 
ing  the  frozen  Mississippi  in  the  winter  of 
1846,  the  exodus  began  ;  in  the  summer 
ensuing,  they  commenced  to  lay  the 
foundations  of  the  city, — the  "  New  Jeru 
salem."  Soon  after,  the  whole  of  this  vast 
region  was  surveyed  by  Messrs.  Stansbury 
and  Gunnison,  by  order  of  the  federal 
government,  and  a  bill  organizing  Utah 
into  a  Territory  having  been  signed  by 
President  Fillmore,  Brigham  Young  was 
appointed  governor,  and  thus  became  the 
supreme  head  of  the  church  and  state. 
He  has  ruled  with  consummate  tact  and 
success,  overcoming  all  opposition  from 
"  Gentile  "  sources,  and  even  keeping  at 
bay  the  national  government  itself.  He 
declared,  "  I  am,  and  will  be,  -governor, 
and  no  power  on  earth  can  hinder  it,  until 
the  Lord  Almighty  says,  'Brig haw,  you 
need  not  lie  governor  any  longer.'  "  Under 
his  teachings  and  practice,  polygamy  be 
came  firmly  established  and  universal,  the 
prohibitory  laws  of  the  United  States  in 
this  matter  being  openly  defied.  His 
conduct  he  defended  in  powerful  harangues 
to  the  faithful,  who  were  always  ready,  at 
the  word  of  command,  to  fight  or  murder, 
in  behalf  of  their  political  and  spiritual 
chief,  if  occasion  required.  Their  sec 
tarian  literature  has  been  very  voluminous,, 
and  has  appeared  in  almost  every  language; 
for  even  in  the  old  world  —  throughout 
Europe,  as  also  in  Asia,  Africa,  Australia, 
and  Polynesia, — scores  of  thousands  of  the 
simple-minded  have  become  dupes  of  the 
itinerant  impostors  sent  forth  from  head 
quarters  to  convert  the  "  gentile  "  world. 
Of  Young,  personally,  the  description 
usually  given  is  that  of  a  man  rather 
above  the  medium  height  and  somewhat 
corpulent,  with  a  face  indicative  of  pene 
tration  and  firmness  ;  hair  parted  on  the 
side,  and  reaching  below  the  ears  with  a 
half  curl ;  the  forehead  somewhat  narrow, 
thin  eyebrows,  the  eyes  between  gray  and 
blue,  with  a  calm,  composed,  and  some 
what  reserved  expression  ;  nose,  fine  and 
sharp-pointed,  and  bent  a  little  to  the  left ; 
lips  close,  the  lower  one  evincing  the 
sensual  voluptuary ;  cheeks  rather  fleshy,. 


GKEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


313 


SALT   LAKE   CITY,   THE  JIOKMON  ZIOX. 


the  side  line  between  the  nose  and 
the  mouth  considerably  broken,  and  the 
chin  peaked ;  hands  well  made  ;  the  whole 
figure  large,  broad-shouldered,  and  stoop 
ing  a  little  when  standing.  In  dress,  no 
Quaker  could  be  neater  or  plainer, — all 
gray  homespun,  except  the  cravat  and 
waistcoat ;  the  coat  of  antique  cut,  and, 
like  the  pantaloons,  baggy,  and  the  but 
tons  black ;  a  neck-tie  of  dark  silk,  with 
a  large  bow,  was  loosely  passed  around  a 
starchless  collar,  which  turned  down  of  its 
own  accord ;  the  waistcoat  of  black  satin 
— once  an  article  of  almost  national  dress 
— single-breasted,  and  buttoned  nearly  to 
the  neck,  and  a  plain  gold  chain  passed 
into  the  pocket.  In  manner,  affable  and 
impressive,  simple  and  courteous,  exciting 
in  strangers  a  consciousness  of  his  power. 
The  number  of  his  wives  was  never  known 
by  any  person  but  himself ;  and  the  multi 
tude  of  his  children,  thus  born  into  the 
world,  constituted  his  chief  boast.  Those 
who  would  like  to  know  more  of  the 
details  of  a  Mormon  prophet's  harem  will 
find  them  amply  portrayed  in  the  works 
of  Burton,  Ferris,  Waite,  Bowles,  Colfax, 
and  other  travelers  in  that  region. 

Salt  Lake  City,  about  two  thousand 
miles  west  of  New  York,  is  situated  on 
the  east  bank  of  the  river  Jordan,  a  stream 
which  connects  Great  Salt  Lake  and  Lake 
Utah  ;  it  is  separated  as  well  from  the 
western  frontier  as  from  the  Pacific  coast, 
by  dreary,  timberless  prairies,  sand  plains, 
and  high  mountains,  the  mountains  on 
the  east  side  being  covered  with  perpetual 


snow,  and  their  summits  are  nearly  two 
miles  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  Thus, 
the  Mormons  form  an  isolated  people, 
and  their  home  is  almost  shut  out  from 
the  rest  of  mankind.  The  city  was  laid 
out  so  as  to  contain  two  hundred  and 
sixty  blocks  of  ten  acres  each,  divided 
into  eight  lots  and  four  public  squares  ; 
the  streets,  one  hundred  and  twenty-eight 
feet  wide,  and  a  stream  of  water  flowing 
through  each,  for  the  purpose  of  irrigat 
ing  the  gardens ;  and  the  squares  being 
adorned  with  trees  from  the  four  quarters 
of  the  globe,  and  adorned  with  fountains. 
The  houses  are  built  of  sun-dried  brick, 
and  are  generally  small  and  of  one  story, 
with  separate  entrances  where  there  are 
several  wives.  The  great  temple,  built  in 
the  Gothic  style,  is  one  hundred  and  fifty 
feet  long  and  sixty  feet  wide.  One  of  the 
largest  buildings  is  the  tithing-house, 
where  is  deposited  one-tenth  of  all  the 
products  of  the  territory  for  the  benefit 
of  the  church.  Almost  "  all  the  authorities 
of  Zion "  live  in  this,  the  great  city 
thereof,  with  families  comprising  from 
twenty-five  to  two  wives  each,  and  there 
are  many  more  girls  than  boys  born.  The 
population  is  composed  largely  of  English, 
Scotch,  Welsh  and  Danes.  In  the  taber 
nacle,  a  large  public  building,  the  people 
assemble  on  the  Sabbath,  to  hear  the 
Mormon  gospel  preached  by  the  prophet 
and  his  coadjutors.  In  another  building, 
called  the  Endowment  House,  the  secret 
orders,  sacred  ordinances,  and  solemn  mys 
teries  of  Mormonism  are  administered. 


XXXIV. 

CAREER,   CAPTURE,    AND    EXECUTION    OF   GIBBS,   THE 
MOST    NOTED    PIRATE    OF   THE    CENTURY.— 1831. 


His  Bold,  Enterprising,  Desperate,  and  Successful  War,  for  Many  Years,  Against  the  Commerce  of  all 
Nations. — Terror  inspired  by  His  Name  as  the  Scourge  of  the  Ocean  and  the  Enemy  of  Mankind. — 
Scores  of  Vessels  Taken,  Plundered,  and  Destroyed. — Their  Crews  and  Passengers,  Male  and  Female, 
Instantly  Butchered. — Gibbs  Born  in  Rhode  Island  — Joins  the  Privateer  Maria. — Captures  Her  in  a 
Mutiny. — Hoists  the  Black  Flag. — Gibbs  Chosen  Leader. — Rendezvous  at  Cape  Antonio. — Booty 
Sold  in  Havana. — No  Lives  Spared. — One  Beautiful  Girl  Excepted. — Atrocious  Use  Made  of  Her. — 
The  Maria  Chased  All  Day. — Her  Final  Abandonment. — A  New  Craft:  Rich  Prizes. — Fight  with  a 
United  States  Frigate. — Gibbs  Overmatched  and  Flees — Fatal  Voyage  in  the  Vineyard. — Lands  at 
Southampton,  L.  I. — His  Infamy  Brought  to  Light. — Arrested  With  His  Treasure. — Confession  of 
His  Guilt.— Black  Record  of  Crime  and  Blood.— Close  of  His  Ill-Starred  Life. 


**  Lending  a  pirate'*  crew. 
O'er  the  dark  tea  I  flew. 
Wild  was  the  life  we  led. 
Many  the  souls  that  sped. 
Many  the  hearts  that  bled, 

By  Our  uteri)  orders." 


APPKAL  OF  A  OIRL  TO  GIBBS  TO  SPARE  HER   LIKK. 


OTWITHSTANDING  a  new  generation 
has  come  upon  the  stage  of  human  af 
fairs,  since  "  GIBBS,  the  pirate"  startled 
the    world    by    his    bold    and    atrocious 
career  on  the   high   seas,  his  deeds  are 
still  read  of,  rehearsed,  and  listened  to, 
with  the  same  wondering  interest   and 
involuntary  shudder,    as  when,    in    the 
days  of  their  actual  occurrence,  they  broke 
fresh  upon  the  ears  of  an  astonished  and 
outraged  community; — a  career  which,  in 
spite  of  the  destiny  that  inevitably  awaits 
such  a  course  of  crime  against  mankind, 
seemed  for  years  to  defy  and  baffle  all  the 
efforts  of  pursuit  and  of  retributive  justice. 
From  the  various  accessible  resources  of 
information     concerning     this     notorious 
adept  in  piracy  and  blood,  it  appears  that 
his  native  place  was  Providence,  R.  I.,  his 
real  name,  James  D.  Jeffers,  having  been 
given  up,  and  that  of  Charles  Gibbs  sub 
stituted.     Bearing  this  name,  at  the  very 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


315 


mention  of  which  mankind  would  after 
wards  shudder,  he  became,  in  the  widest 
and  most  ghastly  sense  of  the  term,  ever 
applied  to  man,  the  Scourge  of  the  Ocean. 

In  November,  1830,  there  sailed  from 
New  Orleans  for  Philadelphia,  the  brig 
Vineyard,  Captain  William  Thornby,  with 
William  Roberts  as  mate,  and  the  follow 
ing  crew  :  Charles  Gibbs,  John  Brownrigg, 
Robert  Dawes,  Henry  Atwell,  James 
Talbot,  A.  Church,  and  Thomas  I.  Wans- 
ley,  a  young  negro  native  of  Delaware, 
who  acted  as  cook.  When  the  Vineyard 
had  been  five  days  at  sea,  Wansley  made  it 
known  to  the  crew  that  there  were  fifty 
thousand  dollars  in  specie  on  board.  This 
information  excited  their  cupidity,  and 
induced  them  to  secretly  consult  as  to 
whether  and  how  they  could  get  the  money 
into  their  own  hands.  Many  conversa 
tions  took  place  on  the  subject,  and  while 
these  were  going  on,  Dawes,  who  was  a 
mere  boy,  was  sent  to  converse  with  the 
officers,  in  order  to  divert  their  attention 
from  what  was  passing. 

Finally,  the  resolution  was  taken,  that 
as  the  master  and  mate  were  old  men,  it 
was  time  they  should  die  and  make  room 
for  the  rising  generation.  Moreover,  they 
were  of  the  opinion  that  as  the  mate  was 
of  a  peevish  disposition,  he  deserved  death. 
It  does  not  appear,  however,  that  Browii- 
rigg  or  Talbot  had  any  part  in  these  plans, 
or  in  the  foul  deed  that  resulted  from 
them.  The  conspirators  agreed  to  commit 
the  fiendish  crimes  of  murder  and  piracy, 
on  the  night  of  the  twenty-third.  The 
murder  of  the  master  was,  by  agreement, 
to  Gibbs  and  Wansley,  and  that  of  the 
mate  to  Atwell  and  Church.  This  plan 
was  carried  out. 

The  pirates  took  possession  of  the  vessel, 
and  Wansley  busied  himself  in  wiping  up 
the  blood  that  had  been  spilled  on  deck, 
declaring,  with  an  oath,  that  though  he 
had  heard  that  the  stains  of  the  blood  of  a 
murdered  person  could  not  be  effaced,  he 
would  wipe  away  these.  Then,  after 
drinking  all  round,  they  got  up  the  money. 
It  was  distributed  in  equal  portions  to  all 
on  board;  Brownrigg  and  Talbot  being 


assured  that,  if  they  would  keep  the  secret, 
and  share  the  plunder,  they  should  receive 
no  injury. 

They  then  steered  a  north-easterly 
course  toward  Long  Island,  till  they  came 
within  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  of  South 
ampton  light,  where  they  resolved  to  leave 
the  vessel  and  take  to  the  boats,  though 
the  wind  was  blowing  very  hard.  Atwell 
scuttled  the  brig  and  got  into  the  jolly- 
boat  with  Church  and  Talbot,  while 
Gibbs,  Wansley,  Dawes,  and  Brownrigg, 
put  off  in  the  long-boat.  The  jolly-boat 
swamped  on  a  bar  two  miles  from  the 
shore,  and  all  on  board  were  drowned. 
The  long-boat  was  also  in  great  danger, 
and  was  only  saved  from  a  like  fate  by 
throwing  over  several  bags  of  specie.  Nev 
ertheless,  the  crew  at  last  got  on  shore  at 
Pelican  Island,  where  they  buried  their 
money,  and  found  a  sportsman  who  told 
them  where  they  were.  They  then  crossed 
to  Great  Barn  Island,  and  went  to  the 
house  of  a  Mr.  Johnson,  to  whom  Brown 
rigg  gave  the  proper  information.  Thence 
they  went  to  the  house  of  a  Mr.  Leonard, 
where  they  procured  a  wagon  to  carry 
them  farther.  As  they  were  about  to  get 
in,  Brownrigg  cried  aloud  that  they  might 
go  where  they  pleased,  but  he  would  not 
accompany  them,  for  they  were  murderers. 
On  hearing  this,  Mr.  Leonard  obtained  the 
presence  of  a  magistrate,  and  Gibbs  and 
Dawes  were  apprehended.  Wansley  es 
caped  into  the  woods,  but  was  followed 
and  soon  taken.  The  maritime,  and 
indeed  the  whole  civilized  world,  breathed 
freer,  when  the  news  spread  abroad  of  the 
great  pirate's  capture. 

The  evidence  of  the  guilt  of  the  accused 
was  full  and  conclusive.  Their  own  con 
fession  of  the  crime,  voluntarily  made  to 
Messrs.  Merritt  and  Stevenson,  who  had 
the  custody  of  them  from  Flatbush  to  New 
York,  could  have  left  not  the  shadow  of  a 
doubt  on  the  mind  of  any  person  who  heard 
the  testimony  of  those  officers.  Wansley 
told  the  whole  story,  occasionally  prompted 
by  Gibbs;  and  while  both  admitted  that 
Brownrigg  was  innocent,  their  confession 
was  not  so  favorable  as  to  Dawes. 


316 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Gibbs  was  arraigned  for  the  murder  of 
William  Roberts,  and  Wansley  for  that  of 
Captain  Thornby,  and,  being  found  guilty, 
judgment  in  accordance  with  the  law  was 
pronounced.  During  the  trial,  the  iron 
visage  of  Gibbs  was  occasionally  changed 
by  a  transient  emotion  ;  he  had  evidently 
abandoned  all  hope  of  escape,  and  sat  the 
greater  part  of  his  time  with  his  hands 
between  his  knees,  calmly  surveying  the 
scene  before  him.  Wansley  was  more 
agitated,  and  trembled  visibly  when  he 
rose  to  hear  the  verdict  of  the  jury. 

And  now,  as  was  to  be  expected,  tit  ere 
was  revealed  the  bloody  annals  of  Gibbs' s 
ill-starred  career. 


PIUATE  GIBBS. 


It  was  in  the  latter  part  of  1813,  that 
he  entered  on  board  a  ship  bound  to  New 
Orleans  and  thence  to  Stockholm.  On  the 
homeward  passage  they  were  forced  to  put 
into  Bristol,  England,  in  distress,  where 
the  ship  was  condemned,  and  he  proceeded 
to  Liverpool.  He  returned  to  the  United 
States  in  the  ship  Amity,  Captain  Max 
well.  Shortly  after  his  arrival  home,  the 
death  of  an  uncle  put  him  in  possession 
of  about  two  thousand  dollars,  with  which 
he  established  himself  in  the  grocery  busi 
ness  in  Boston,  an  undertaking  which  did 
not  prove  profitable,  so  that  he  was  often 
under  the  necessity  of  applying  to  his 
father  for  assistance,  which  was  always 
afforded,  together  with  the  best  advice. 
The  stock  was  finally  sold  at  auction,  for 
about  nine  hundred  dollars,  which  he  soon 
squandered  in  tippling-houses  and  among 
profligates.  His  father,  hearing  of  his 
dissipation,  wrote  affectionately  to  him  to 
come  home,  but  he  stubbornly  refused,  and 
again  turned  his  attention  to  the  sea. 


Sailing  in  the  ship  John,  Captain  Brown, 
bound  for  the  island  of  Margaretta,  he 
left  the  ship  soon  after  its  arrival  at  that 
place,  and  entered  on  board  the  Colombian 
privateer  Maria,  Captain  Bell.  They 
cruised  for  about  two  months  in  the  Gulf 
of  Mexico,  around  Cuba,  but  the  crew 
becoming  dissatisfied  in  consequence  of 
the  non-payment  of  their  prize-money,  a 
mutiny  arose,  the  crew  took  possession  of 
the  schooner,  and  landed  the  officers  near 
Pensacola.  A  number  of  days  elapsed 
before  it  was  finally  decided  by  them  what 
course  to  pursue.  Some  advised  that  they 
should  cruise  as  before,  under  the  Colom 
bian  commission  ;  others  proposed  to  hoist 
the  black  flag.  They  cruised  for  a  short 
time  without  success,  and  it  was  then 
unanimously  determined  to  hoist  the  black 
flay,  and  wage  war  against  the  commerce 
of  all  nations.  Their  bloody  purpose, 
however,  was  not  carried  into  full  and 
immediate  execution;  for,  though  they 
boarded  a  number  of  vessels,  they  allowed 
them  to  pass  unmolested,  there  being  no 
specie  on  board,  and  their  cargoes  not 
being  convertible  into  anything  valuable 
to  themselves. 

At  last,  one  of  the  crew,  named  Anto 
nio,  suggested  that  an  arrangement  could 
be  made  with  a  man  in  Havana,  that 
would  be  mutually  beneficial ;  that  he 
would  receive  all  their  goods,  sell  them, 
and  divide  the  proceeds.  This  plan  being 
received  favorably,  they  ran  up  within 
two  miles  of  Moro  Castle,  and  sent  Anto 
nio  on  shore  to  see  the  merchant  and  make 
a  contract  with  him.  Previous  to  this, 
Gibbs  was  chosen  to  navigate  the  vessel. 
Antonio  succeeded  in  arranging  every 
thing  according  to  their  wishes,  and  Cape 
Antonio  was  appointed  to  be  the  place  of 
rendezvous.  The  merchant  was  to  furnish 
facilities  for  transporting  the  goods  to 
Havana,  which  he  did  for  more  than  three 
years. 

The  Maria  now  put  to  sea,  with  a  crew 
of  about  fifty  men,  mostly  Spaniards  and 
Americans,  with  every  expectation  of  suc 
cess.  The  first  vessel  she  fell  in  with  was 
the  Indispensable,  an  English  ship  bound 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


317 


to  Havana,  which  was  taken  and  carried 
to  Cape  Antonio.  The  crew  were  imme 
diately  destroyed  ;  those  ivho  resisted  were 
hacked  to  pieces ;  those  who  offered  no 
resistance  were  reserved  to  be  shot  and 
thrown  overboard.  The  maxim  to  which 
they  scrupulously  adhered,  was,  that  'dead 
men  tell  no  tales."1  According  to  Gibbs's 
statement,  he  never  had  occasion  to  give 
orders  to  begin  the  work  of  death.  The 
Spaniards  were  eager  to  accomplish  that 
object  without  delay,  and  generally  every 
unhappy  victim  disappeared  in  a  very  few 
minutes  after  the  pirates'  feet  trod  the 
deck  of  the  fated  vessel. 

Gibbs  now  directed  his  course  towards 
the  Bahama  Banks,  where  they  captured  a 
brig,  believed  to  be  the  William,  of  New 
York,  from  some  port  in  Mexico,  with  a 
cargo  of  furniture,  destroyed  the  crew,  took 
the  vessel  to  Cape  Antonio,  and  sent  the 
furniture  and  other  articles  to  their  accom 
plice  in  Havana.  Sometime  during  this 
cruise,  the  pirate  was  chased  for  nearly  a 
whole  day,  by  a  United  States  frigate, 
supposed  to  be  the  John  Adams;  he 
hoisted  patriot  colors,  and  finally  escaped. 
In  the  early  part  of  the  summer  of  1817, 
they  took  the  Earl  of  Moria,  an  English 
ship  from  London,  with  a  cargo  of  dry- 
goods.  The  crew  were  destroyed,  the 
vessel  burnt,  and  the  goods  carried  to  the 
Cape ;  here  the  pirates  had  a  settlement 
with  their  Havana  agent,  and  the  proceeds 
were  divided  according  to  agreement. 
Gibbs  repaired  personally  to  Havana,  in 
troduced  himself  to  the  merchant,  and 
made  arrangements  for  the  successful  pros 
ecution  of  his  piracies.  While  there,  he 
became  acquainted  with  many  of  the  En 
glish  and  American  naval  officers,  and, 
adroitly  concealing  his  own  character  and 
calling,  inquired  respecting  the  success  of 
their  various  expeditions  for  the  suppres 
sion  of  piracy,  and  all  their  intended 
movements  ! 

Ou  the  return  to  Cape  Antonio,  Gibbs 
found  his  comrades  in  a  state  of  mutiny 
and  rebellion,  and  that  several  of  them  had 
been  killed.  His  energy  checked  the  dis 
turbance,  and  all  agreed  to  submit  to  his 


orders,   and   put  any   one   to   death   who 
should  dare  to  disobey  them. 

During  the  cruise  which  was  made  in 
the  latter  part  of  1817  and  the  beginning 
of  1818,  a  Dutch  ship  from  Curacoa  was 
captured,  with  a  cargo  of  West  India 
goods,  and  a  quantity  of  silver  plate.  The 
passengers  and  crew,  to  the  number  of 
thirty,  were  all  killed,  with  the  exception 
of  a  young  and  beautiful  female,  about 
seventeen,  ivho,  in  the  midst  of  the  awful 
scene  of  death-blows  and  shrieks  and  man 
gled  corpses,  kneeled  upon  the  gory  deck, 
and  piteously  implored  Gibbs  to  save  her 
life  !  The  appeal  was  successful ;  and  he 
promised  to  save  her,  though  he  knew  it 
would  lead  to  dangerous  consequences 
among  his  crew.  She  was  carried  to  Cape 
Antonio,  and  kept  there  about  two  months; 
but  the  dissatisfaction  increased  until  it 
broke  out  at  last  into  open  mutiny,  and 
one  of  the  pirates  was  shot  by  Gibbs  for 
daring  to  lay  hold  of  her  with  a  view  to 
beating  out  her  brains.  Gibbs  was  com 
pelled,  however,  in  the  end,  to  submit  her 
fate  to  a  council  of  war,  at  which  it  was 
decided  that  the  preservation  of  their  own 
lives  made  her  sacrifice  indispensable.  He 
therefore  acquiesced  in  the  decision,  and 
gave  orders  to  have  her  destroyed  by 
poison,  which  was  immediately  adminis 
tered  to  her,  and  thus  the  young,  beautiful, 
and  unfortunate  creature  was  launched 
into  the  other  world. 

Shortly  after  this,  the  piratical  schooner 
was  driven  ashore  near  the  Cape,  and  so 
much  damaged  that  it  was  found  necessary 
to  destroy  her.  A  new,  sharp-built 
schooner  was  in  consequence  provided  by 
their  faithful  ally  in  Havana,  called  the 
Picciana,  and  dispatched  to  their  rendez 
vous. 

In  this  vessel,  they  cruised  successfully 
for  more  than  four  years.  Among  the 
vessels  taken  and  destroyed  —  and  their 
crews  and  passengers  remorselessly  hurried 
into  eternity — were,  the  Belvidere,  Dido,  a 
Dutch  brig,  the  British  barque  Larch,  and 
many  others. 

Gibbs  further  stated  that  he  had  been 
concerned  in  robbing  forty  different  ves- 


318 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


GIBBS  BUTCHERING  THE  CREW  OF  ONE  OF  HIS   PHIZES. 


sels.  He  gave  the  names  of  upwards  of  a 
score  of  vessels  taken  by  the  pirates  under 
his  command,  the  crews  of  which  had  been 
murdered. 

Sometime  in  the  course  of  the  year 
1819,  Gibbs  left  Havana  for  the  United 
States,  carrying  with  him  about  thirty 
thousand  dollars.  He  passed  several 
weeks  in  New  York,  and  then  went  to 
Boston,  whence  he  took  passage  for  Liver 
pool,  in  the  ship  Emerald.  Before  he 
sailed,  however,  he  had  squandered  a  large 
part  of  his  money  in  dissipation  and  gam 
bling.  He  remained  in  Liverpool  a  few 
months,  and  then  returned  to  Boston  in 
the  ship  Topaz.  His  residence  in  Liver 


pool,  at  that  time,  was  testified  to  by  a 
female  in  New  York,  who  was  well 
acquainted  with  him  there,  and  where,  as 
she  stated,  he  lived  like  a  wealthy  gentle 
man.  In  speaking  of  his  acquaintance 
with  this  female,  Gibbs  said  : 

"  I  fell  in  with  a  woman,  who,  I  thought, 
was  all  virtue,  but  she  deceived  me,  and  I 
am  sorry  to  say  that  a  heart  that  never 
felt  abashed  at  scenes  of  carnage  and 
blood,  was  made  a  child  of,  for  a  time,  by 
her,  and  I  gave  way  to  dissipation  and 
torment.  How  often,  when  the  fumes  of 
liquor  have  subsided,  have  I  thought  of 
my  good  and  affectionate  parents,  and  of 
their  godly  advice !  But  when  the  little 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


319 


monitor  began  to  move  within  me,  I  imme 
diately  seized  the  cup  to  hide  myself  from 
myself,  and  drank  until  the  sense  of  intoxi 
cation  was  renewed.  My  friends  advised 
me  to  behave  like  a  man,  and  promised  me 
their  assistance,  but  the  demon  still 
haunted  me,  and  I  spurned  their  advice." 

He  readily  admitted  his  participation  in 
the  Vineyard  mutiny,  revolt  and  robbery, 
and  in  the  murder  of  Thornby  ;  and,  so 
impressed  was  he  Avith  the  universal  detes 
tation  and  horror  which  his  heinous  crimes 
had  excited  against  him,  that  he  often 
inquired  if  he  should  not  be  murdered  in 
the  streets,  in  case  he  had  his  liberty,  and 
was  recognized.  He  would  also  frequently 
exclaim,  "  Oh,  if  I  had  got  into  Algiers, 
I  should  never  have  been  in  this  prison, 
to  be  hung  for  murder  !  " 

Though  he  gave  no  evidence  of  contri 
tion  for  the  horrible  and  multiplied  crimes 
of  which  he  confessed  himself  guilty,  yet 
he  evidently  dwelt  upon  their  recollection 
with  great  unwillingness.  If  a  question 
was  asked  him,  in  regard  to  how  the  crews 
were  generally  destroyed,  he  answered 
quickly  and  briefly,  and  instantly  changed 
the  topic  either  to  the  circumstances 
attending  his  trial,  or  to  his  exploits  in 
Buenos  Ay  res.  On  being  asked  why  with 
such  cruelty  he  killed  so  many  persons, 
after  getting  all  their  money,  which  was 
all  he  wanted,  he  replied  that  the  laws 
themselves  were  responsible  for  so  many 
murders ;  that,  by  those  laws,  a  man  has 
to  suffer  death  for  piracy,  and  the  punish 
ment  for  murder  is  no  more, — besides,  all 
witnesses  are  out  of  the  way,  and,  conse 
quently,  if  the  punishment  was  different, 
there  would  not  be  so  many  murders. 

On  Friday,  April  twenty-second,  1831, 


Gibbs  and  Wansley  paid  the  penalty  of 
their  crimes.  Both  prisoners  arrived  at 
the  gallows  about  twelve  o'clock,  accom 
panied  by  the  marshal,  his  aids,  and  a 
body  of  United  States  marines.  Two 
clergymen  attended  them  to  the  fatal  spot, 
where,  everything  being  in  readiness,  the 
ropes  were  adjusted  about  their  necks,  and 
prayers  offered.  Gibbs  addressed  the 
spectators,  acknowledging  the  heinousness 
of  his  career,  and  adding — 

"  Should  any  of  the  friends  of  those 
whom  I  have  been  accessory  to,  or  engaged 
in,  the  murder  of,  be  now  present,  before 
my  Maker  I  beg  their  forgiveness — it  is 
the  only  boon  I  ask — and,  as  I  hope  for 
pardon  through  the  blood  of  Christ,  surely 
this  request  will  not  be  withheld  by  man, 
from  a  worm,  like  myself,  standing,  as  I 
do,  on  the  very  verge  of  eternity !  An 
other  moment,  and  I  cease  to  exist — and 
could  I  find  in  my  bosom  room  to  imagine 
that  the  spectators  now  assembled  had 
forgiven  me,  the  scaffold  would  have  no 
terrors.  My  first  crime  was  piracy,  for 
which  my  life  would  pay  the  forfeit  on 
conviction ;  no  punishment  could  be 
inflicted  on  me  farther  than  that,  and 
therefore  I  had  nothing  to  fear  but  detec 
tion,  for  had  my  offenses  been  millions  of 
times  more  aggravated  than  they  now  are, 
death  must  have  satisfied  all." 

Gibbs  shook  hands  with  Wansley,  the 
officers  and  clergymen,  the  caps  were  then 
drawn  over  the  faces  of  the  two  criminals, 
and  a  handkerchief  dropped  by  Gibbs  as  a 
signal  to  the  executioner  caused  the  cord 
to  be  severed,  and  in  an  instant  they  were 
suspended  in  air.  Wansley  expired  with 
only  a  few  slight  struggles.  Gibbs  died 
hard. 


XXXV. 


NULLIFICATION     OUTBREAK      IN      SOUTH     CAROLINA, 

UNDER   THE    LEAD  OF    CALHOUN,   M.cDUFFIE, 

HAYNE,  AND  OTHERS.— 1832. 


State  Sovereignty,  Instead  of  the  Federal  Government,  Claimed  by  them  to  be  Supreme. — The  Wrath 
of  President  Jackson  Aroused. — His  Stern  and  Heroic  Will  Upholds  the  National  Authority  and 
Saves  the  Union  from  Anarchy  and  from  the  Perils  of  Dismemberment. — Momentous  Nature  of 
this  Contest. — The  Tariff  a  Rock  of  Offense. — Action  in  the  "  Palmetto  "  State. — Anti-National 
and  Defiant. — Pacific  Proposals  Scouted. — A  Political  Dinner  in  Washington. — Jackson's  and  Cal- 
houn's  Toasts. — Plan  of  the  Conspirators. — A  Bomb-shell  in  Their  Camp. — Convention  of  Agitators 
in  Columbia. — Nullification  Ordinance  Passed. — "  Old  Hickory  "  Bold  and  Resolute. — His  Peremp 
tory  Proclamation. — South  Carolina's  Counter-Blast. — United  States  Troops  Sent  to  Charleston. — 
Presidential  Idea  of  Compromising. — Clay's  Conciliation  Scheme. — The  Leading  Nullifiers  in 
Danger. — Jackson  Threatens  to  Hang  Them. — They  are  Roused  from  Bed  at  Midnight. — Two 
Alternatives  Presented. — Swallowing  a  Bitter  Pill. 


"  Thou  too,  tail  on,  O  ship  of  State,- 
Bail  on,  O  UNION.  Ktronc  and  great; 
Humanity,  with  all  its  fears. 
With  all  its  hope*  of  future  yean, 
Is  hanging  breathless  on  thy  fate  ! " 


ITTER   and    momentous   was    the   political   contest 
which  shook  the  Union  to  its  very  center  in  1832,  the 
year    in  which  culminated,   in  all    its  violence,  the 
South  Carolina  doctrine  of  State  Rights  and  Nullifi 
cation.     In  a  general,  preliminary  way,  the  nature  or 
origin  of  this  great  sectional  conflict  presents  itself 
thus  :  A  powerful  party  in  South  Carolina,  led  on  by 
able   and   ambitious  politicians,  contended  that  con 
gress  had  jio  power  to  impose   taxes   for  protecting 
home  industry  or  manufactures,  but  solely  for  pur 
poses  of  revenue,  sufficient  to  defray  the  expenses  of 
the  government;  that  each   state   had  a  right  to  judge 
whether  congress,  in  its  legislation,  exceeded  its  powers, 
and  in  that  case  to  disobey  it, — treat  it  as  of  no  binding 
They  therefore    declared  the  tariff  which    passed   into 
operation  at   the    close  of  the  session  of  1832,  to  be  null  and 
void  ;  making  it  unlawful  for  any  of  the  constituted  authorities 
to  enforce  it;  and  disallowing  all  appeal  to  the  supreme  court. 
Any  act  which  might  be  passed  by  congress  to  coerce  them  into 
obedience,  they    would   consider  as   dissolving   them    from    the 
obligation  to  maintain    the  Union,  and  they  would   proceed  to 
organize   a  separate  government.     These  views  were  supported 
by  their  legislature,  and  vehemently  advocated  by  Calhoun  and 
McDuffie  at  Washington, — two  of  the  most  celebrated  leaders  in 
public    affairs,  who    have  ever   appeared   in    American    history. 
Their  scheme,  however,  of  defying  the  national  government,  on 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


321 


the  assumption  of  the  sovereignty  of  the 
states  as  principals,  and  the  subordination 
of  the  federal  government  as  a  mere 
agency,  found  a  mortal  enemy  in  Andrew 
Jackson,  who,  at  the  very  time  chosen  by 
the  sectionalists,  or  milliners,  to  put  their 
doctrine  into  practice,  was  chief  magistrate 
of  the  nation. 

But,  though  the  climax  of  these  anti- 
national  proceedings  was  not  reached  until 
this  period,  the  great  leaders  had  for  years 
been  sowing  the  seeds  of  contempt  for 
federal  authority  and  the  constitution  and 
Union  from  which  that  authority  was  de 
rived,  and,  in  doing  this,  even  went  so  far 
as  to  claim  that  the  fathers  of  the  republic, 
especially  Mr.  Jefferson,  held  and  taught 
the  same  principle.  Of  these  tactics,  Mr. 
Benton  gives  a  notable  example,  in  his 
account  of  the  anniversary  of  Mr.  Jeffer 
son's  birthday,  April  thirteenth,  1830, 
celebrated  by  a  numerous  company,  that 
year,  in  the  city  of  Washington ;  Mr. 
Benton's  account  agreeing,  in  every  ma 
terial  point,  with  that  furnished  by  other 
pens,  as  follows : 

It  was  the  birthday  of  Thomas  Jeffer 
son,  and  those  who  attended  the  party  did 
so  avowedly  for  the  purpose  of  honoring 
the  memory  of  the  author  of  the  Declar 
ation  of  Independence.  Such  at  least  was 
the  tenor  of  the  invitation.  Andrew  Jack 
son,  the  president  of  the  United  States, 
was  there.  So  was  John  C.  Calhoun,  the 
vice-president.  Three  of  the  cabinet  min 
isters,  namely,  Van  Buren,  Eaton,  and 
Branch,  were  there ;  and  members  of  con 
gress  and  citizens  not  a  few. 

It  soon  became  manifest  to  the  more 
sagacious  ones,  that  this  dinner  party  and 
the  day  were  to  be  made  the  occasion  for 
inaugurating  the  new  doctrine  of  nullifi 
cation,  and  to  fix  the  paternity  of  it  on 
Mr.  Jefferson,  the  great  apostle  of  democ 
racy  in  America.  Many  gentlemen  pres 
ent,  perceiving  the  drift  of  the  whole  per 
formance,  withdrew  in  disgust  before  sum 
moned  to  the  table ;  but  the  sturdy  old 
president,  perfectly  informed,  remained. 

When  the  dinner  was  over  and  the  cloth 
removed,  a  call  was  made  for  the  regular 
21 


toasts.  These  were  twenty-four  in  num 
ber,  eighteen  of  which,  it  is  alleged,  were 
written  by  Mr.  Calhoun.  These,  in  multi 
farious  forms,  shadowed  forth,  now  dimly, 
now  clearly,  the  new  doctrine.  They 
were  all  received  and  honored  in  various 
degrees,  when  volunteer  toasts  were  an 
nounced  as  in  order. 

The  president  of  the  United  States  was 
of  course  first  called  upon  for  a  sentiment. 
His  tall  form  rose  majestically,  and  with 
that  sternness  appropriate  to  the  peculiar 
occasion,  he  cast  that  apalling  bomb-shell 
of  words  into  the  camp  of  the  conspira 
tors,  which  will  forever  be  a  theme  for 
the  commendation  of  the  patriot  and  the 
historian — "THE  FEDERAL  UNIOX:  IT 
MUST  BE  PKESEUVED  ! "  He  was  fol 
lowed  by  the  vice-president,  Mr.  Calhoun, 
who  gave  as  his  sentiment — "  The  Union  : 
next  to  our  Liberty  the  most  dear ;  may 
we  all  remember  that  it  can  only  be  pre 
served  by  respecting  the  rights  of  the 
States,  and  distributing  equally  the  benefit 
and  burden  of  the  Union  !  "  Those  who 
before  doubted  the  intentions  of  Calhoun 
and  his  southern  friends,  and  were  at  a 
loss  to  understand  the  exact  meaning  of 
the  dinner  party,  were  r.c  longer  embar 
rassed  by  ignorance.  In  that  toast  was 
presented  the  issue — liberty  before  union 
— supreme  state  sovereignty — false  com 
plaints  of  inequality  of  benefits  and  bur 
dens — '  our  rights  '  as  we  choose  to  define 
them,  or  disunion.  From  that  hour,  there 
fore,  the  vigilant  old  president  watched  the 
South  Carolina  conspirator,  his  lieutenant, 
with  the  searching  eyes  of  unslumbering 
suspicion. 

But  the  opposition  of  South  Carolina 
to  a  protective  tariff  dated  farther  back 
than  this.  In  1820,  and  again  in  1825, 
the  legislature  of  that  state  protested 
against  all  such  congressional  measures, 
and  in  1827  instructed  her  representatives 
at  AVashington  to  maintain  these  views, 
to  the  fullest  extent,  on  the  floor  of  con 
gress.  The  next  year,  she  entered  a  for 
mal  protest  and  resolutions  against  any 
right  of  congress  to  impose  protective 
duties  on  imported  goods.  More  resolu- 


322 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-187G. 


tions,  addressed  to  other  states,  followed 
in  December,  1828,  and  in  1830  the  state 
legislature  most  forcibly  reaffirmed  the 
doctrines  to  which  it  had  previously  given 
such  emphatic  expression.  In  fact,  the 
people  had  been  worked  by  their  leaders 
into  a  temporar}*  frenzy. 

In  an  exhaustive,  as  well  as  most  vivid 
and  truthful  review  of  the  events  per 
taining  to  this  exciting  period  in  national 
affairs,  a  writer  in  the  New  Monthly 
Magazine  has  contributed  one  of  the  most 
thrilling  chapters  to  be  found  in  American 
history.  From  that  source  the  following 
abridged  narrative  is  derived  for  the  most 
part : 

A  prominent  issue  in  the  presidential 
election  of  1832  was  that  of  the  protective 
tariff,  otherwise  known  as  the  American 
System.  South  Carolina  had  virtually 
threatened  to  secede  from  the  Union  unless 


appointed.  She  refused  to  take  an  honest 
part  in  the  presidential  election,  giving 
her  votes  for  citizens  who  were  not  candi 
dates.  She  had  resolved — or  rather  the 
conspirators  had  resolved  for  her — not  to 
be  pacified  with  anything  less  than  federal 
dismemberment ! 

Jackson,  the  chosen  standard-bearer  of 
the  democratic  party,  and  to  which  organ 
ization  the  conspirators  professedly  be 
longed,  was  re-elected ;  yet  the  malcon 
tents  continued  to  defy  the  government, 
and  exhibited  the  falsity  of  their  profes 
sions  of  attachment  to  that  party  by  im 
mediately,  when  the  result  of  the  election 
was  known,  calling  a  convention  of  the 
delegates  of  the  people  of  South  Carolina, 
at  Columbia,  their  state  capital,  for  a 
rebellious  purpose. 

In  that  convention,  composed  of  poli 
ticians,  the  professed  representatives  of 


OLD  STATE  HOUSE  AT  COLUMBIA. 


the  policy  of  that  system  should  be  aban 
doned  by  the  government.  A  nervous 
apprehension  of  some  dire  impending  ca 
lamity  appears  to  have  taken  possession  of 
the  public  mind,  and  the  congressional 
elections  resulted  unfavorably  to  the  sys 
tem.  Those  who  loved  peace  in  the 
national  household  fondly  expected  now 
to  see  the  smile  of  satisfaction  on  the  face 
of  South  Carolina.  But  they  were  dis- 


the  people  took  into  their  own  hands 
violent  instrumentalities  for  the  redress  of 
alleged  grievances,  which  the  chief  con 
spirators  had  prescribed.  Just  a  fortnight 
after  the  election,  November  24,  1832, 
which  really  decided  the  fate  of  the  Ameri 
can  System,  they  sent  forth  from  that 
convention  an  Ordinance  of  Nullification 
against  it,  its  title  being,  "  An  ordinance 
to  nullify  certain  acts  of  the  Congress  of 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


323 


the  United  States,  purporting  to  be  laws 
laying  duties  and  imposts  on  the  im 
portation  of  foreign  commodities."  Mr. 
Hayne,  recently  senator  in  congress,  was 
president  of  that  convention,  and  chair 
man  of  the  committee  of  twenty-one  who 
reported  the  ordinance  of  nullification. 
A  fortnight  after  this  labor  was  per 
formed,  the  legislature  of  South  Carolina, 
made  up  chiefly  of  Calhoun's  and  McDuf- 
fie's  disciples,  evinced  their  sympathy  with 
Hayne's  course  by  electing  him  governor 
of  that  commonwealth. 

The  ordinance  of  nullification  forbade 
all  constituted  authorities,  state  or  na 
tional,  within  the  boundaries  of  South 
Carolina,  to  enforce  the  payment  of  duties 
imposed  by  the  tariff  laws,  and  disallowed 
any  appeal,  by  residents  of  the  state,  to 
the  United  States  supreme  court.  It  was 
also  ordained  that  all  public  officers  should 
take  an  oath  to  obey  that  ordinance  on 
penalty  of  forfeiture  of  office.  A  military 
spirit  everywhere  prevailed.  The  blue 
cockade  with  the  Palmetto  button,  was 
almost  universally  worn. 

Having  thus  bound  the  people  of  the 
state  hand  and  foot,  the  c. inspirators  de 
fiantly  declared  that  they  would  not  sub 
mit  to  coercion  by  the  United  States,  and 
that  they  should  consider  the  passage  by 
congress  of  any  act  declaring  the  ports  of 
that  state  abolished  or  closed,  or  in  any 
way  interfering  with  their  commerce  as 
"  inconsistent  with  the  longer  continuance 
of  South  Carolina  in  the  Union;"  and 
that  the  people  of  the  state  would  hence 
forth  "  hold  themselves  absolved  from  all 
further  obligation  to  maintain  or  preperve 
their  political  connection  with  the  people  of 
the  other  states,"  and  would  proceed  forth 
with  to  "organize  a  separate  government, 
and  do  all  other  acts  and  things  which  sov 
ereign  and  independent  states  may  of  right 
do."  The  ordinance  was  to  take  effect  on 
the  first  day  of  February  ensuing  after  its 
passage.  It  was  signed  by  more  than  one 
hundred  leading  citizens  of  South  Carolina, 
and  thus  officially  communicated  to  the 
president  of  the  United  States.  The  state 
of  affairs  threatened  a  fatal  crisis. 


Fortunately  for  the  country,  there  was 
a  man  at  the  head  of  the  government 
whose  patriotism  and  courage  had  never 
been  found  wanting.  It  was  equal  to  this 
emergency ! 

South  Carolina,  through  her  unscrupu 
lous  politicians,  had  been  placed  in  the 
attitude  of  open,  forcible  resistance  to  the 
laws  of  the  United  States,  which  the 
president  had  solemnly  sworn  to  execute. 
Andrew  Jackson  was  not  a  man  to  be 
trifled  with  He  quickly  perceived  his 
duty,  and  as  quickly  hastened  to  the  per 
formance  of  it.  The  ordinance  of  nulli 
fication  reached  him  on  the  1st  of  De 
cember.  On  the  tenth  of  the  same  month 
he  issued  a  proclamation,  kind  but  firm, 
persuasive  but  admonitory,  in  which  he 
denounced  the  pernicious  doctrine  of  state 
supremacy,  and  warned  the  people  of 
South  Carolina  that  they  had  been  de 
ceived  by  demagogues.  "  Eloquent  appeals 
to  your  passions,  to  your  state  pride,  to 
your  native  courage,  to  your  sense  of  real 
injury,"  he  said,  "  were  used  to  prepare 
you  for  the  period  when  the  mask,  which 
concealed  the  hidden  features  of  disunion, 
should  be  taken  off.  It  fell,  and  you  were 
made  to  look  with  complacency  on  objects 
which,  not  long  since,  you  would  have  re 
garded  with  horror."  Thus,  perfectly 
self-poised  and  unterrified,  he  reasoned 
fraternally  with  them. 

In  patriotic  language  he  also  appealed 
to  the  misguided  people  to  snatch  from  the 
archives  of  their  state  the  disorganizing 
edict  of  its  convention;  "bid  its  members 
to  reassemble,  and  promulgate  the  de 
cided  expression  of  your  will  to  remain  in 
the  path  which  alone  can  conduct  you  to 
safety,  prosperity,  and  honor.  Tell  them 
that,  compared  with  disunion,  all  other 
evils  are  light,  because  that  brings  with  it 
an  accumulation  of  all.  Declare  that  you 
will  never  take  the  field  unless  the  star- 
spangled  banner  of  }-our  country  shall 
float  over  you;  that  you  will  not  be  stig 
matized,  when  dead,  and  dishonored  and 
scorned  while  you  live,  as  the  authors  of 
the  first  attack  on  the  constitution  of  your 
country.  Its  destroyers  you  cannot  be. 


324 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


You  may  disturb  its  peace  ;  you  may  in 
terrupt  the  course  of  its  prosperity  ;  }'ou 
may  cloud  its  reputation  for  stability  ;  but 
its  tranquillity  will  be  restored,  its  pros 
perity  will  return,  and  the  stains  upon  its 
national  character  will  be  transferred  and 
remain  an  eternal  blot  on  the  memory  of 
those  who  caused  the  disorder."  No 
presidential  document  ever  caused  so  pro 
found  a  sensation,  not  even  that  concern 
ing  the  transfer  of  the  government  de 
posits  from  the  old  United  States  bunk 
to  various  local  banks,  under  Secretary 
Taney,  the  successor  of  Duane, — an  act 
which  nothing  less  than  Jackson's  im 
mense  personal  popularity  could  survive. 
Meanwhile,  Governor  llayne  had  called 


the  South  Carolina  legislature  together,  to 
take  measures  for  enforcing  the  ordinance 
of  nullification.  They  authorized  the  gov 
ernor  to  call  out  the  militia  of  the  state 
for  the  purpose,  and  ordered  the  purchase 
of  ten  thousand  stand  of  arms,  and  a 
requisite  quantity  of  equipments  and  muni 
tions  of  war.  The  feelings  of  the  poli 
ticians  of  other  states  were  consulted. 
Those  of  Virginia,  Georgia,  and  Ala 
bama  approved  of  the  action  of  the  "  Pal 
metto  State."  and  gave  assurance  that,  in 
the  event  of  secession,  those  states  would 
join  her  in  forming  a  southern  confederacy. 
Hut  North  Carolina  refused  her  assent  to 
any  such  scheme.  Governor  Hayne,  how 


ever,  issued  his  counter-proclamation,  de 
nouncing  the  attitude  of  the  general 
government  towards  the  state  of  South 
Carolina,  and  threatening  to  resist  to  the 
last  extremity.  Hayne  was  of  the  same 
political  stripe,  in  his  day,  as  Floyd, 
Jacob  Thompson,  General  Quitman,  and 
the  host  of  lesser  marplots  in  congress,  of 
a  later  era. 

The  time  for  action  had  now  arrived, 
and  Calhoun  resigned  the  vice-presidency 
and  took  his  seat  in  the  senate  of  the 
United  States,  where  he  might  do  battle 
for  disunion  more  potently.  The  presi 
dent  had  resolved  to  arrest  him  on  his 
arrival  at  Washington,  have  him  tried  for 
high  treason,  and  hung  if  found  guilty. 
But  the  great  southern  chieftain  walked 
in,  slowly  and  deliberately,  to  the  crowded 
senate,  and,  with  reverential  manner,  and 
in  a  serious,  solemn,  and  audible  voice, 
took  the  oath  to  support  the  Constitution 
of  the  United  States.  Perhaps,  at  this 
moment,  the  prediction  of  Dr.  Timothy 
Dwight  that  he,  Calhoun,  would  one  day 
be  president  of  the  nation,  flashed  across 
the  mind  of  the  ambitious  southron. 

This  contemplated  arrest,  in  the  then 
condition  of  public  feeling  in  the  southern 
states,  might  have  been,  if  carried  out,  a 
most  pernicious  step  ;  one  that  would  have 
kindled  the  flames  of  civil  war  instantly. 
AVebster  and  others  persuaded  Jackson 
not  to  adopt  that  extreme  measure,  but 
to  endeavor  to  win  back  the  deluded 
people.  The  proclamation  already  men 
tioned,  followed;  and,  on  the  assembling 
of  congress,  President  Jackson,  in  his 
annual  message,  called  attention  to  the 
attitude  of  South  Carolina,  and  asked  for 
co-operation  in  suppressing  the  rising 
rebellion.  He  had  already  taken  pre 
cautionary  measures.  Quite  a  large  body 
of  troops,  under  General  Scott,  were 
stealthily  thrown  into  Fort  Moultrie  in 
Charleston  harbor,  and  a  sloop  of  war  was 
sent  to  the  same  waters  to  protect  the 
national  officers  of  customs,  if  necessary, 
in  the  performance  of  their  duties. 

Before  the  inhabitants  of  Charleston 
were  aware  that  the  president  would  re- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


325 


sort  to  force  in  the  maintenance  of  the 
laws,  the  national  troops  were  before  their 
faces,  and  the  guns  of  Fort  Moultrie  were 
silently  but  admonishingly  telling  them 
to  be  careful  not  to  interfere  with  the  busi 
ness  of  the  United  States  custom-house ! 

The  president  had  declared,  in  substance, 
in  his  message,  that  his  policy  would  be  a 
peaceful  one  towards  the  rebellious  state, 
so  long  as  peaceful  measures  promised  to 
be  effectual ;  but  in  the  event  of  per 
sistent  contumacy,  he  was  prepared  to 
force  South  Carolina  into  submission. 
This  determination  of  the  government, 
the  presence  of  General  Scott  with  a 
competent  force,  and  the  sloop-of-war  in 
the  harbor,  caused  a  material  abatement 
of  rebellious  zeal  in  the  metropolis  of  the 
turbulent  state,  and  it  became  evident  to 
the  leaders  there  that  South  Carolina  would 
not  be  permitted  to  sever  the  bond  that 
bound  her  to  the  Union.  Her  famous 
ordinance  was  not  enforced;  the  revenues 
were  regularly  collected  ;  and  the  national 
laws  continued  to  be  executed  without 
interruption.  Such  being  the  case,  the 
conspirators  in  the  convention,  illy  conceal 
ing  their  mortification  after  such  a  dis 
play  of  arrogance,  resolved  to  postpone 
their  intended  forcible  resistance  until  the 
first  of  February. 

On  the  very  first  day  of  the  session  of 
congress,  bills  for  the  reduction  of  the 
tariff  were  introduced.  One  reported  \>y 
Mr.  Verplanck,  from  the  committee  of 
ways  and  means,  was  very  favorably  re 
ceived,  especially  by  those  who  wished 
to  conciliate  the  radical  opponents  of  the 
tariff,  of  the  South  Carolina  school.  But 
long  debates  followed,  and  February,  as 
well  as  the  session  of  congress,  was  draw 
ing  to  a  close,  when,  to  the  astonishment 
of  everybody,  Mr.  Letcher,  a  representa 
tive  from  Kentucky,  and  an  ardent  friend 
of  Mr.  Clay,  rose  in  his  place  and  moved 
to  strike  out  every  word  of  the  bill  except 
the  enacting  clause,  and  insert  in  lieu 
of  it  a  bill  introduced  in  the  senate  by 
Mr.  Clay,  which  has  since  been  called  the 
'  compromise  bill.'  It  was  a  formal  aban 
donment  of  the  American  system,  and 


confessedly  a  measure  to  heal  disaffection 
and  save  the  Union.  It  proposed  a 
gradual  reduction  of  the  tariff  in  the 
course  of  ten  years,  in  such  a  way  that  all 
interests  would  be  unharmed.  This  com 
promise  bill  ultimately  passed,  and  the 
weapons  of  disunion  were  for  a  time 
foiled,  as  well  as  Calhoun's  mad  ambition. 

Of  the  secret  history  of  this  remarkable 
measure,  in  the  passage  of  which  Clay 
and  Calhoun  appeared  to  be  in  coalition, 
Mr.  Benton  has  given  a  most  interesting 
explanation,  substantially  as  follows  : 

The  relative  position  of  the  national 
government  and  South  Carolina,  and  of 
the  president  of  the  United  States  and 
Mr.  Calhoun,  in  the  winter  of  1833, 
placed  the  latter  in  great  personal  peril, 
which  his  friends  perceived  and  tried  to 
avert.  Among  others  consulted  on  the 
subject  by  them,  was  Letcher,  of  Ken 
tucky,  Clay's  warm  personal  friend.  He 
knew  that  South  Carolina  must  yield,  on 
some  terms,  to  the  authority  and  power  of 
the  national  government,  and  he  conceived 
the  idea  of  a  compromise  by  which,  in  so 
yielding,  she  might  preserve  her  dignitj*. 
He  proposed  it  to  Mr.  Clay,  who,  sincerely 
desiring  reconciliation,  entertained  the 
idea,  and  submitted  it  to  Webster.  The 
amazing  intellectual  plummet  of  the  latter 
had  fathomed  the  turbid  waters  of  nullifi 
cation  far  deeper  than  had  the  brilliant 
Kentuckian.  and  he  instantly  answered — 

"No!  It  will  be  yielding  great  prin 
ciples  to  faction.  The  time  has  come  to 
test  the  strength  of  the  constitution  and 
the  f/overnment." 

Mr.  Webster  had  heartily  supported  the 
force  bill  reported  by  Mr.  Wilkins  from  the 
judiciary  committee.  Although  opposed, 
politically,  to  Jackson's  administration,  he 
had  said  that  he  believed  an  unlawful  com 
bination  was  threatening  the  integrity  of 
the  Union,  and  that  he  should  give  the 
administration  a  frank  and  hearty  sup 
port,  in  all  just  measures  for  dealing 
firmly  with  the  crisis.  He  was  utterly 
opposed  to  compromising  and  temporizing 
measures  with  a  rebellious  faction,  and 
told  Mr.  Clay  so ;  and  from  that  time  he 


326 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


was  not  approached  by  those  who  were 
willing  to  shield  conspirators  from  the 
sword  of  justice. 

Mr.  Clay  drew  up  a  compromise  bill  and 
sent  it  to  Mr.  Calhoun  by  Mr.  Letrher. 
Calhoun  objected  to  parts  of  the  bill  most 
emphatically,  and  remarked  that  if  Clay 
knew  the  nature  of  his  objections,  lie 
would  at  least  modify  those  portions  of 
the  bill.  Letcher  made  arrangements  for 
a  personal  interview  between  these  eminent 


Letcher  now  flew  to  McD'uffie,  Calhoun's 
ardent  friend  and  chief  coadjutor,  and 
alarmed  him  with  a  startling  picture  of  the 
president's  wrath.  That  night,  after  he 
had  retired  to  bed,  Letcher  was  aroused 
by  a  Louisiana  senator,  Josiah  S.  John 
son,  who  informed  him  that  Jackson  would 
not  allow  any  more  delay,  and  that  Cal 
houn's  arrest  might  take  place  any  hour. 
He  begged  Letcher  to  warn  Calhoun  of 
his  danger.  He  did  so.  He  found  the 


senators,  who  had  not  been  on  speaking 
terms  for  some  time.  The  imperious  Clay 
demanded  that  it  should  be  at  his  own 
room.  The  imperiled  Calhoun  consented 
to  go  there.  The  meeting  was  civil,  but 
icy.  The  business  was  immediately  en 
tered  upon.  The  principals  were  unyield 
ing,  and  the  conference  ended  without 
results.  Letcher  now  hastened  to  the 
president,  and  sounded  him  on  compro 
mising. 

"  Compromise  !  "  said  the  stern  old  man, 
"  I  will  make  no  compromise  with  traitors. 
1  will  have  no  negotiations.  I  will  execute 
the  laws.  Calhoun  shall  be  tried  for 
treason,  and  hanged  if  found  guilty,  if  he 
does  not  instantly  cease  his  rebellious 
course." 


South  Carolinian  in  bed.  He  told  him  of 
the  temper  and  intentions  of  the  president, 
and  the  conspirator  was  much  alarmed. 

Meanwhile,  Mr.  Clay  and  J.  M.  Clajr- 
ton  of  Delaware  had  been  in  frequent 
consultations  on  the  subject.  Clayton 
had  said  to  Clay,  while  his  bill  was  linger 
ing  in  the  house,  "These  South  Caro 
linians  act  very  badly,  but  they  are  good 
fellows,  and  it  is  a  pity  to  let  Jackson 
hang  them ;  "  and  advised  him  to  get  his 
bill  referred  to  a  new  committee,  and  so 
modify  it  as  to  make  it  acceptable  to  a 
majority.  Clay  did  so,  and  Clayton  ex 
erted  all  his  influence  to  avert  the  ca 
lamity  which  hung  over  Calhoun  and  his 
friends.  He  assembled  the  manufacturers 
who  had  hurried  to  the  capital  when  they 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


327 


had  heard  of  the  compromise  bill,  to  see 
whether  they  would  not  yield  something, 
for  the  sake  of  conciliation  and  the  Union. 
At  a  sacrifice  of  their  interests,  these 
loyal  men  did  yield,  and  agreed  to  with 
draw  all  opposition  to  the  bill,  and  let  it 
pass  the  senate,  providing  all  the  milliners 
should  vote  for  certain  amendments  made 
by  the  lower  house,  as  well  as  the  bill 
itself.  The  nullifiers  in  committee  would 
not  yield.  The  crisis  had  arrived.  The 
gallows  was  placed  before  Calhoun' s  eyes. 
Clayton  earnestly  remonstrated  with  him. 
He  pointed  out  the  danger,  the  folly,  the 
wickedness  of  his  course ;  and  notified 
him  that  unless  the  amendments  were 
adopted,  and  that  by  the  votes  of  himself 
and  political  friends,  the  bill  should  not 
pass  ;  that  he,  Clayton,  would  move  to  lay 
it  on  the  table  when  it  should  be  reported 
to  the  senate,  and  he  had  strength  enough 
there  pledged  to  do  it.  "  The  president 
will  then,"  he  said,  "be  left  free  to  ex 
ecute  the  laws  in  full  rigor."  His  object, 
he  told  them  plainly,  was  to  put  them 
squarely  on  the  record ;  to  make  all  the 
nullifiers  vote  for  the  amendments  and  the 
bill,  and  thus  cut  them  off  from  the  plea  of 
"  unconstitutionally,"  which  they  would 
raise  if  the  bill  and  amendments  did  not 
receive  their  votes.  Unless  they  were  so 
bound,  he  knew  that  the  present  pacifica 
tion  would  be  only  a  hollow  truce,  and 
that  they  would  make  this  very  measure, 
probably,  a  pretense  for  renewing  their 
resistance  to  what  they  were  pleased  to 
call  "  unconstitutional  measures "  of  the 
national  government,  and  for  resuming 
their  march  toward  secession  and  inde 
pendence.  He  was  peremptory  with  both 
Clay  and  Calhoun,  and  warned  them  that 
this  was  the  last  chance  for  compromise. 
Mr.  Clayton  was  inexorable.  Clay  and 
Calhoun  agreed  to  the  amendments.  These 
with  the  bill  were  reported  to  the  senate. 
All  the  nullifiers  voted  for  the  amendments 
in  order,  until  they  came  to  the  last,  that 
of  home  valuation,  which  was  so  revolting 
to  the  great  leader  of  the  conspirators. 
When  that  came  up,  Calhoun  and  his 
friends  met  it  with  the  most  violent  op 


position.  It  was  the  last  day  but  one  of 
the  session,  and  a  late  hour  in  the  day. 
Finding  the  nullifiers  persistent  in  their 
opposition,  Clayton,  to  their  great  con 
sternation,  suddenly  executed  his  threat. 
He  moved  to  lay  the  bill  on  the  table,  and 
declared  it  should  continue  to  lie  there. 
Mr.  Clay  begged  him  to  withdraw  his 
motion.  Others  entreated  him  to  give  a 
little  more  time.  He  was  inflexible. 
There  was  fluttering  in  the  bevy  of  nulli 
fiers.  Calhoun  and  his  friends  retired 
behind  the  colonnade  back  of  the  presi 
ding  officer's  chair,  and  there  held  a 
brief  consultation.  It  was  very  brief,  for 
time  and  opportunity  were  precious.  Sena 
tor  Bibb  came  from  the  trembling  con 
clave  and  asked  Clayton  to  give  a  little 
more  time.  This  was  a  token  of  yielding, 
and  he  complied.  He  withdrew  his 
motion,  but  with  the  declaration  that 
unless  the  measure,  in  full,  was  voted  for 
by  all  the  nullifiers,  he  should  renew  it. 
Instantly  one  of  their  friends  moved  an 
adjournment,  and  it  was  carried.  A  little 
time  brought  them  to  the  conclusion  to 
vote  as  Mr.  Claj'ton  demanded,  but  begged 
that  gentleman  to  spare  Mr.  Calhoun  the 
mortification  of  appearing  on  the  record 
in  favor  of  a  measure  against  which,  at 
that  very  time,  and  at  his  instance,  troops 
were  being  raised  in  South  Carolina,  and 
because  of  which  the  politicians  of  that 
state  were  preparing  to  declare  her  seces 
sion  from  the  Union !  Mr.  Clayton  would 
not  yield  a  jot.  Calhoun  was  the  chief  of 
sinners  in  this  matter,  and  he,  of  all 
others,  must  give  the  world  public  and 
recorded  evidence  of  penitence,  whatever 
his  "mental  reservations"  might  be. 
"Nothing  would  be  secured,"  Mr.  Clayton 
said,  "  unless  his  vote  appears  in  favor  of 
the  measure." 

The  senate  met ;  the  bill  was  taken  up  ; 
and  the  nullifiers  and  their  friends,  one 
after  another,  yielded  their  objections  on 
various  pretenses.  At  length,  when  all 
had  voted  but  Mr.  Calhoun,  he  arose,  pale 
and  haggard,  for  he  had  had  a  most  ter 
rible  struggle.  He  declared  that  he  had 
then  to  determine  which  way  he  should 


328 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


vote,  and  at  the  termination  of  his  brief 
remarks  he  gave  his  voice  in  the  affirma 
tive  with  the  rest.  It  was  a  bitter  pill  for 
that  proud  man  to  swallow.  The  alterna 
tive  presented  to  him  was  absolute  humilia 
tion  or  the  gallows.  He  chose  the  former. 
With  that  act  fell  the  great  conspiracy  to 
break  up  the  government  of  the  United 
States  in  1832.  The  violent  clamors 
raised  in  South  Carolina  and  the  Gulf 
States  on  the  appearance  of  Jackson's 
proclamation  soon  ceased,  and  the  ordi 
nance  of  nullification  was  repealed. 

To  Jackson's  heroic  will  and  unfaltering 
purpose  was  the  result  due.  Thus,  when 
the  nullification  frenzy  was  at  its  height, 
the  Uuiou  men  in  Charleston  sent  a 


deputation  to  Washington,  to  inform  the 
president  that  they  were  daily  threatened 
with  an  outbreak,  and  did  not  consider 
their  lives  safe.  Scarcely  waiting  to  hear 
the  words  uttered,  the  general  sprung  to 
his  feet,  and  with  a  voice  and  a  look  of 
almost  superhuman  energy,  exclaimed — 

"The  lives  of  Union  men  not  safe, 
while  Andrew  Jackson  is  president!  Go 
back  to  Charleston,  and  tell  the  nullifiers 
that  if  a  hair  on  the  head  of  a  Union  man 
is  harmed,  that  moment  I  order  General 
Coffee  to  march  on  Carolina  with  fifty 
thousand  Tennessee  volunteers,  and  if  that 
does  not  settle  the  business,  tell  them — 
by  the  Eternal! — that  I  will  take  the  field 
myself,  with  fifty  thousand  more !  " 


XXXVI. 

SUBLIME   METEORIC   SHOWER  ALL  OVER  THE   UNITED 

STATES.— 1833. 


The  Most  Grand  and  Brilliant  Celestial  Phenomenon  Ever  Beheld  and  Recorded  by  Man. — The  Whole 
Firmament  of  the  Universe  in  Fiery  Commotion  for  Several  Hours — Amazing  Velocity,  Size,  and 
Profusion  of  the  Falling  Bodies. — Their  Intense  Heat,  Vivid  Colors,  and  Strange,  Glowing  Beauty. — 
Unequaled  in  Every  Respect. — Cloudless  Serenity  of  the  Sky. — The  People  Wonder-Struck  — 
Admiration  Among  the  Intelligent. — Alarm  Among  the  Ignorant — Conflagration  of  the  World 
Feared. — Impromptu  Prayer-Meetings. — Prodigious  Star-Shower  at  Boston. — Myriads  of  Blood- Red 
Fire-Bails. — The  Display  at  Niagara  Falls. — Blazing  Heavens,  Roaring  Cataracts. — Some  of  the 
Meteors  Explode. — Trains  of  Light  in  their  Track. — Radiant  Prismatic  Hues. — Substance  Compos 
ing  these  Bodies. — Dissipated  by  Bursting. — One  Great  Central  Source. — Velocity,  Four  Miles  a 
Second. — Novel  Shapes  and  Motions. — Hotter  than  the  Hottest  Furnace. — Possible  Result  to  the 
Earth. — Half  a  Continent  in  Presumed  Jeopardy. 


"  the  unnznini-  flood 

Rolled  a  broad  ulnughter  O'er  the  pliiina  of  heaven. 
And  nature's  self  did  net  in  to  toiler  on  the  brink  of  time." 


F*^  XTKXSTVE  and  magnificent  showers  of  shooting  stars  have  been  known 
to  occur  at  various  places  in  modern  times  ;  but  the  most  universal  and 
wonderful  which  has  ever  been  recorded  is  that 
of  the  thirteenth  of  November,  1833,  the  whole 
firmament,  over  all  the  United  States,  being 
then,  for  hours,  in  fiery  commotion!  No  celestial 
phenomenon  has  ever  occurred  in  this  country,  since 
its  first  settlement,  which  was  viewed  with  such  in 
tense  admiration  by  one  class  in  the  community,  or 
with  so  much  dread  and  alarm  by  another.  It  was 
the  all-engrossing  theme  of  conversation  and  of 
scientific  disquisition,  for  weeks  and  months.  In 
deed,  it  could  not  be  otherwise,  than  that  such  a 
rare  phenomenon, — next  in  grandeur  and  sublimity 
to  that  of  a  total  solar  eclipse,  or  a  great  comet 
stretched  athwart  the  starry  heavens,  in  full  view 
of  a  wonder-struck  universe, — should  awaken  the 
deepest  interest  among  all  beholding  it.  Nor  is  the 
memory  of  this  marvelous  scene  yet  extinct ;  its 
sublimity  and  awful  beauty  still  linger  in  many  minds,  who  also  remember  well  the 
terror  with  which  the  demonstration  was  regarded,  and  the  mortal  fear  excited  among 
the  ignorant  that  the  end  of  the  world  had  come.  During  the  three  hours  of  its  con- 


METEOKIC   SHOWER  AT  BOSTON. 


330 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177<>-1876. 


tinuance,  the  day  of  judgment  was  be 
lieved  to  be  only  waiting  for  sunrise,  and, 
long  after  the  shower  had  ceased,  the 
morbid  and  superstitious  still  were  im 
pressed  with  the  idea  that  the  final  day 
was  at  least  only  a  week  ahead.  Impromptu 
meetings  for  prayer  were  held  in  many 
places,  and  many  other  scenes  of  religious 
devotion,  or  terror,  or  abandonment  of 
worldly  affairs,  transpired,  under  the  in 
fluence  of  fear  occasioned  by  so  sudden 
and  awful  a  display. 

But,  though  in  many  districts  the  mass 
of  the  population  were  thus  panic-stricken, 
through  fear,  as  well  as  want  of  familiarity 
with  the  history  of  such  appearances,  the 
more  enlightened  were  profoundly  awed 
at  contemplating  so  vivid  a  picture  of  the 
apocalyptic  image — that  of  '  the  stars  of 
heaveu  falling  to  the  earth,  even  as  a  fig 
tree  casting  her  untimely  figs,  when  she  is 
shaken  of  a  mighty  wind.'  In  describing 
the  effect  of  this  phenomenon  upon  the 
black  population,  a  southern  planter  says : 

'I  was  suddenly  awakened  by  the  most 
distressing  cries  that  ever  fell  on  my  ears. 
Shrieks  of  horror  and  cries  for  mercy, 
could  be  heard  from  most  of  the  negroes  of 
three  plantations,  amounting  in  all  to  some 
six  or  eight  hundred.  While  earnestly 
and  breathlessly  listening  for  the  cause,  I 
heard  a  faint  voice  near  the  door  calling 
my  name.  I  arose,  and,  taking  my  sword, 
stood  at  the  door.  At  this  moment  I 
heard  the  same  voice  still  beseeching  me 
to  rise,  and  saying,  "  0,  my  God,  the  world 
is  on  fire!"  I  then  opened  the  door,  and 
it  is  difficult  to  say  which  excited  me  most 
— the  awfulness  of  the  scene,  or  the  dis 
tressed  cries  of  the  negroes.  Upwards  of 
one  hundred  lay  prostrate  on  the  ground, 
some  speechless,  and  others  uttering  the 
bitterest  moans,  but  with  their  hands 
raised,  imploring  God  to  save  the  world 
and  them.  The  scene  was  truly  awful,  for 
never  did  rain  fall  much  thicker  than  the 
meteors  fell  towards  the  earth  ;  east,  west, 
north,  and  south,  it  was  the  same.'  In  a 
word,  the  whole  heavens  seemed  in  motion. 

The  display,  as  described  in  Professor 
Silliman's  Journal,  was  seen  all  over  North 


America.  The  chief  scene  of  the  exhibi 
tion  was  within  the  limits  of  the  longitude 
of  sixty-one  degrees  in  the  Atlantic  ocean, 
and  that  of  one  hundred  degrees  in  Cen 
tral  Mexico,  and  from  the  North  Ameri 
can  lakes  to  the  southern  side  of  the  island 
of  Jamaica. 

Over  this  vast  area,  an  appearance  pre 
sented  itself  far  surpassing,  in  grandeur 
and  magnificence,  the  loftiest  reach  of  the 
human  imagination.  From  two  o'clock 
until  broad  daylight,  the  sky  being  per 
fectly  serene  and  cloudless,  an  incessant 
play  of  dazzlingly  brilliant  luminosities 
was  kept  up  in  the  whole  heavens.  Some 
of  these  were  of  great  magnitude  and  most 
peculiar  form.  One,  of  large  size,  remained 
for  some  time  almost  stationary  in  the  ze 
nith,  over  the  Falls  of  Niagara,  emitting 
streams  of  light  which  radiated  in  all  direc 
tions.  The  wild  dash  of  the  waters,  as  con 
trasted  with  the  fiery  commotion  above 
them,  formed  a  scene  of  unequaled  and 
amazing  sublimity.  Arago  computes  that 
not  less  than  two  hundred  and  fort//  thou 
sand  meteors  were  at  the  same  time  visible 
above  the  horizon  of  Boston  !  To  form  some 
idea  of  such  a  spectacle,  one  must  imagine 
a  constant  succession  of  fire-balls,  resem 
bling  sky-rockets  radiating  in  all  direc 
tions,  from  a  point  in  the  heavens  near  the 
zenith,  and  following  the  arch  of  the  sky 
towards  the  horizon.  They  proceeded  to 
various  distances  from  the  radiating  point, 
leaving  after  them  a  vivid  streak  of  light, 
and  usually  exploding  before  they  disap 
peared.  The  balls  were  of  various  sizes 
and  degrees  of  splendor ;  some  were  mere 
points,  but  others  were  larger  and  brighter 
than  Jupiter  or  Venus  ;  and  one,  in  par 
ticular,  appeared  to  be  nearly  of  the  moon's 
size.  But  at  Niagara,  no  spectacle  so  ter 
ribly  grand  and  sublime  was  ever  before 
beheld  by  man  as  that  of  the  firmament 
descending  in  fieri/  torrents  over  the  dark 
and  roarincj  cataract! 

Everywhere  within  the  range  of  the 
exhibition,  the  first  appearance  was  that  of 
fire-works  of  the  most  imposing  grandeur, 
covering  the  entire  vault  of  heaven  with 
myriads  of  fire-balls  resembling  sky-rock- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


331 


ets.  On  more  attentive  inspection,  it  was 
seen  that  the  meteors  exhibited  three  dis 
tinct  varieties,  as  follows,  described  by  Dr. 
Olmsted  : — 

First,  those  consisting  of  phosphoric 
lines,  apparently  described  by  a  point. 
This  variety  was  the  most  numerous, 
every-where  filling  the  atmosphere,  and 
resembling  a  shower  of  fiery  snow  driven 
with  inconceivable  velocity  to  the  north  of 
west,  and  transfixing  the  beholder  with 
wondering  awe. 

Second,  those  consisting  of  large  fire 
balls,  which  at  intervals  darted  along  the 
sky,  leaving  luminous  trains  which  occa 
sionally  remained  in  view  for  a  number  of 
minutes,  and,  in  some  cases,  for  half  an 
hour  or  more.  This  kind  appeared  more 
like  falling  stars,  giving  to  many  persons 
the  very  natural  impression  that  the  stars 
were  actually  falling  from  the  sky  ;  and  it 
was  principally  this  spectacle  which  caused 
such  amazement  and  terror  among  the 
unenlightened  classes. 

Third,  those  undefined  luminous  bodies 
which  remained  nearly  stationary  in  the 
heavens  for  a  considerable  period  of  time ; 
these  were  of  various  size  and  form. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  circum 
stances  attending  this  display  was,  that 
the  meteors  all  seemed  to  emanate  from 


sky,  ran  along  the  vault  with  immense 
velocit3r,  describing  in  some  instances  an 
arc  of  thirty  or  forty  degrees  in  less  than 
four  seconds.  The  trains  which  they  left 
were  commonly  white,  but  were  sometimes 
tinged  with  various  prismatic  colors. 

One  ball — seen  at  New  Haven,  and  sup 
posed  to  have  been  identical  with  one 
described  by  various  observers — that  shot 
off  in  the  north-west  direction,  and  ex 
ploded  a  little  northward  of  the  star 
Capella,  left,  just  behind  the  place  of 
explosion,  a  phosphorescent  train  of  pecu 
liar  beauty.  The  line  of  direction  was  at 
first  nearly  straight ;  but  it  soon  began  to 
contract  in  length,  to  dilate  in  breadth, 
and  to  assume  the  figure  of  a  serpent  draw 
ing  himself  up,  until  it  appeared  like  a 
small  luminous  cloud  of  vapor.  This 
cloud  was  borne  eastward,  —  the  wind 
blowing  gently  in  that  direction, — oppo 
site  to  the  course  in  which  the  meteor  had 
proceeded,  remaining  in  sight  several 
minutes. 

Of  the  third  variety  of  meteors,  the  fol 
lowing  are  remarkable  examples.  At 
Poland,  Ohio,  a  luminous  body  was  dis 
tinctly  visible  in  the  north-east  for  more 
than  an  hour ;  it  was  very  brilliant,  in  the 
form  of  a  pruning-hook,  and  apparently 
twenty  feet  long  and  eighteen  inches 


JIKTKOR1C    SlIOWKlt   AS    KKEX    AT    XIAUAKA   FALLS. 


one  and  the  same  point ;  that  is,  if  their 
lines  of  direction  had  been  continued  back 
ward,  they  would  have  met  in  the  same 
point,  south-east  a  little  from  the  zenith. 
The}'  set  out  at  different  distances  from 
this  point,  and,  following  the  arch  of  the 


broad ;  it  gradually  settled  towards  the 
horizon,  until  it  disappeared.  At  Niagara 
Falls,  a  large,  luminous  body,  shaped  like 
a  square  table,  was  seen  nearly  in  the 
zenith,  remaining  for  some  time  almost 
stationary,  and  emitting  large  streams  of 


332 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


light.  At  Charleston,  S.  C.,  a  meteor  of 
extraordinary  size  was  seen  to  course  the 
heavens  lor  a  great  length  of  time,  and 
then  was  heard  to  explode  with  the  .noise 
of  a  cannon. 

The  point  from  which  the  meteors 
seemed  to  issue,  was  observed,  by  those 
who  fixed  the  position  of  the  display 
among  the  stars,  to  be  in  the  constellation 
Leo.  At  New  Haven,  it  appeared  in  the 
bend  of  the  '  sickle  ' — a  collection  of  stars 
in  the  breast  of  Leo, — a  little  to  the  west 
ward  of  the  star  Gamma  Leonis.  By 
observers  at  other  places  remote  from  each 
other,  it  was  seen  in  the  same  constella 
tion,  although  in  different  parts  of  it.  An 
interesting  and  important  fact,  in  this 
connection,  is,  that  this  radiating  point 
was  stationary  among  the  fixed  stars  — 
that  is,  that  it  did  not  move  along  with  the 
earth,  in  its  diurnal  revolution  eastward, 
but  accompanied  the  stars  in  their  appar 
ent  progress  westward. 

According  to  the  testimony  of  by  far  the 
greater  number  of  observers,  the  meteors 
were,  in  general,  unaccompanied  by  any 
very  peculiar  sound;  but,  on  the  other 
hand,  such  a  sound,  proceeding,  as  was 
supposed,  from  the  meteors,  was  said  to  be 
distinctly  heard  by  a  few  observers  in 
various  places.  These  sounds  are  repre 
sented  either  as  a  hissing  noise,  like  the 
rushing  of  a  sky-rocket,  or  as  explosions, 
like  the  bursting  of  the  same  bodies  ;  and 
these  instances  were  too  numerous  to 
permit  the  supposition  that  they  were 
imaginary. 

A  remarkable  change  of  weather,  from 
warm  to  cold,  accompanied  the  meteoric 
shower,  or  immediate!}'  followed  it.  In 
all  parts  of  the  United  States,  this  change 
was  remarkable  for  its  suddenness  and 
intensity.  In  many  places,  the  day  pre 
ceding  had  been  unusually  warm  for  the 
season,  but,  before  morning,  a  severe  frost 
ensued,  unparalleled  for  the  time  of  year. 
Indeed,  the  seasons  and  atmospheric 
changes  exhibited  remarkable  anomalies 
long  after  that  period.  Thus,  in  parts  of 
Michigan,  so  uncommonly  mild  was  the 
season  throughout  the  latter  part  of 


November,  and  the  whole  of  December, 
that  the  Indians  made  maple  sugar  during 
this  month,  and  the  contiguous  lakes 
remained  unfrozen  as  late  as  January 
third.  At  the  same  period,  the  season  in 
the  south-western  states,  as  far  as  New 
Orleans,  was  uncommonly  cold.  In  most 
portions  of  New  England,  an  unusually 
mild  winter  was  succeeded  by  a  remarka 
bly  cold  and  backward  spring,  requiring 
domestic  fires  to  be  kept  throughout  the 
month  of  May,  and  frequently  in  the 
month  of  June.  A  succession  of  gales 
commenced  about  the  time  of  the  meteoric 
shower,  first  in  the  Atlantic  ocean,  and 
afterwards  in  various  parts  of  the  United 
States,  almost  unequaled  in  this  country 
for  their  frequency  and  violence. 

The  meteors  were  constituted  of  very 
light,  combustible  materials.  Their  com 
bustibility  was  rendered  evident  by  their 
exhibiting  the  actual  phenomena  of  com 
bustion,  being  consumed,  or  converted 
into  smoke,  with  intense  light  and  heat; 
and  the  extreme  tenuity  of  tlie  substance 
composing  them  is  inferred  from  the  fact 
that  they  were  stopped  by  the  air.  Had 
their  quantity  of  matter  been  considerable, 
with  so  prodigious  a  velocity,  they  would 
have  had  a  sufficient  momentum  to  enable 
them  to  reach  the  earth,  and  the  most  dis 
astrous  consequences  might  have  ensued. 
Upon  submitting  this  subject  to  accurate 
calculation,  upon  established  principles, 
Dr.  Olmsted  ascertained  that  the  quantity 
of  heat  extricated  from  the  air  by  the  fall 
ing  meteors,  exceeded  that  of  the  hottest 
furnaces,  and  could  be  compared  only  to 
those  immeasurable  degrees  of  heat  pro 
duced  in  the  laboratory  of  the  chemist, 
before  which  the  most  refractory  sub 
stances  are  melted,  and  even  dissipated  in 
vapor. 

Some  of  the  larger  meteors  must  have 
been  bodies  of  very  great  size.  Dr.  Smith, 
of  North  Carolina,  and  other  persons  in 
various  places,  saw  a  meteor  which  ap 
peared  as  large  as  the  full  moon.  If  this 
body  were  at  the  distance  of  one  hundred 
and  ten  miles  from  the  observer,  it  must 
have  had  a  diameter  of  one  mile  ;  if  at  a 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


333 


distance  of  eleven  miles,  its  diameter  was 
five  hundred  and  twenty-eight  feet;  and 
if  only  one  mile  off,  it  must  have  been 
forty-eight  feet  in  diameter.  These  con 
siderations  leave  no  doubt  that  many  of 
the  meteors  were  of  great  size,  though  it 
may  be  difficult  to  say  precisely  ho\v  large. 
The  fact  that  they  were  stopped  by  the 
resistance  of  the  air,  proves  that  their 
substance  was  light;  still,  the  quantity  of 
smoke,  or  residuum,  which  resulted  from 
their  destruction,  indicates  that  there  was 
quite  a  body  of  matter. 

The  momentum  of  even  light  bodies  of 
such  size,  and  in  such  numbers,  traversing 
the  atmosphere  with  such  astonishing 
velocity,  must  have  produced  extensive 
derangements  in  the  atmospheric  equilib 
rium,  as  the  consideration  of  certain  points 
will  show. 

These  large  bodies  were  stopped  in  the 
atmosphere,  only  by  transferring  their 
motion  to  columns  of  air,  large  volumes  of 
which  would  be  suddenly  and  violently 
displaced.  Cold  air  of  the  upper  regions 
would  be  brought  down  to  the  earth  ;  the 
portions  of  air  incumbent  over  districts  of 
country  remote  from  each  other,  being 
mutually  displaced,  would  exchange  places, 
the  air  of  the  warm  latitudes  being  trans 
ferred  to  colder,  and  that  of  cold  latitudes 
to  warmer  regions ;  remarkable  changes 
of  season  would  be  the  consequence,  and 
numerous  and  violent  gales  would  prevail 
for  a  long  time,  until  the  atmosphere 
should  have  regained  its  equilibrium.  That 
the  state  of  the  weather,  and  the  condition 
of  the  seasons  that  followed  the  meteoric 
shower,  corresponded  to  these  consequences 
of  the  disturbance  of  the  atmospheric  equi 
librium,  is  a  remarkable  fact,  and  favors 
the  opinion  early  suggested,  that  such 
disturbance  is  a  natural  effect  of  the  mete 
oric  shower,  and  it  is  a  consequence  from 
which  the  most  formidable  dangers  attend 
ing  phenomena  of  this  kind  are  to  be 
apprehended. 

With  regard  to  the  nature  of  the  mete 
ors,  Dr.  Olmsted,  after  establishing  the 
fact  that  they  were  combustible,  light, 
and  transparent  bodies,  infers  that  the 


cloud  which  produced  the  fiery  shower, 
consisted  of  nebu^us  matter,  analogous  to 
that  which  composes  the  tails  of  comets. 
It  cannot  be  said,  indeed,  precisely  what 
is  the  constitution  of  the  material  of  which 
the  latter  are  composed  ;  but  it  is  known 
that  it  is  very  light,  since  it  meets  no 
appreciable  force  of  attraction  on  the  plan 
ets,  moving  even  among  the  satellites  of 
Jupiter  without  disturbing  their  motions, 
although  its  own  motions,  in  such  cases, 
are  greatly  disturbed,  thus  proving  its 
materiality;  and,  that  it  is  exceedingly 
transparent,  is  evinced  by  the  fact  that 
the  smallest  stars  are  visible  through  it. 
Hence,  so  far  as  there  can  be  gathered 
any  knowledge  of  the  material  of  the  neb 
ulous  matter  of  comets,  and  of  the  matter 
composing  these  November  meteors,  they 
appear  to  be  analogous  to  each  other. 

Various  hypotheses  have  been  proposed 
to  account  for  this  wonderful  phenomenon. 
The  agent  most  readily  suggesting  itself 
in  this  and  in  most  other  unexplained 
natural  appearances — electricity — has  no 
known  properties  adequate  to  account  for 
the  production  of  the  meteors,  for  the 
motions  which  they  exhibited,  or  for  the 
trains  which,  in  many  instances,  they  left 
behind  them.  And,  if  this  agent  be  sup 
posed  to  have  some  connection  with  the 
light  and  heat  which  they  exhibited,  it  is 
to  be  borne  in  mind,  that  the  compression 
of  the  air  which  must  result  from  the 
rapid  progress  of  large  bodies  through  it, 
is  a  sufficient  cause  of  this. 

Magnetism  has  also  been  assigned  as  the 
principal  agent  concerned  in  producing 
the  meteoric  shower.  The  aurora  borealis, 
and  the  remarkable  auroral  arches  which 
occasionally  appear  in  the  sky,  have  been 
found  to  have  peculiar  relations  to  the 
magnetism  of  the  earth,  arranging  them 
selves  in  obedience  to  the  laws  of  magnetic 
attraction.  Something  of  this  kind  was 
supposed  by  some  to  appear  during  the 
meteoric  phenomenon,  especially  in  the 
position  of  the  apparent  center  or  radiant- 
point,  which  was,  as  noticed  by  many 
observers,  very  nearly  in  the  place  towards 
which  the  dipping-needle  is  directed. 


334 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


REMARKABLE  METEORIC  DISPLAY  ON  THE  MISSISSIPPI. 


From  other  observations,  however,  it 
appears  that  the  radiant-point  was  not 
stationary  with  respect  to  the  meridian, 
but  accompanied  the  stars  in  their  westerly 
progress ;  the  apparent  coincidence  with 
the  pole  of  the  dipping-needle  being, 
according  to  this,  purely  accidental. 

According  to  the  view  that  has  been 
taken,  by  some,  of  the  origin  of  meteoric 
stones,  namely,  that  of  ascribing  them  to 
terrestrial  comets,  the  hypothesis  has  been 
suggested,  that  the  meteors  in  question 
might  have  a  similar  origin.  But  the 
body  which  afforded  the  meteoric  shower, 
could  not  have  been  of  the  nature  of  a 
satellite  to  the  earth,  because  it  remained 


so  long  stationary  with  respect  to  the 
earth — at  least  two  hours, — a  period  suffi 
cient  to  have  carried  it  nearly  round  the 
earth  in  a  circular  orbit. 

Nor  can  it  be  supposed  that  the  earth, 
in  its  annual  progress,  came  into  the  vicin 
ity  of  a  nebula,  which  was  either  station 
ary,  or  wandering  lawless  through  spare. 
Such  a  collection  of  matter  could  not 
remain  stationary  within  the  solar  system, 
in  an  insulated  state;  and  had  it  been  in 
motion  in  any  other  direction  than  that  in 
which  the  earth  was  moving,  it  would  soon 
have  been  separated  from  the  earth,  since, 
during  the  eight  hours  while  the  meteoric 
shower  lasted,  —  and  perhaps,  in  all  its 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


335 


wide  range,  it  lasted  much  longer, — the 
earth  moved  in  its  orbit  through  the  space 
of  nearly  five  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
miles. 

In  connection  with  the  account  of  this 
meteoric  shower,  mention  may  be  made  of 
a  remarkable  light,  seen  in  the  east  at  the 
time  of  that  great  display,  and  subse 
quently  in  the  west  after  twilight  at  differ 
ent  times,  until  the  month  of  May,  which 
light  assumed  different  aspects,  corre 
sponding,  apparently,  to  those  which  the 
body  revolving  around  the  sun,  in  the 
manner  contemplated  by  theoiy,  would 
occupy.  Hence  it  was  conjectured,  that 
this  luminous  appearance  proceeded  from 
the  body  itself,  which  afforded  the  mete 
oric  shower.  It  has  also  been  suggested, 
that  this  light  may  result  from  the  same 
cause  as  the  zodiacal  light,  and  that  the 
lattqr  interesting  phenomenon  perhaps  re 
sults  from  a  nebulous  body  revolving 
around  the  sun,  interior  to  the  orbit  of  the 
earth. 

It  is  a  point  worthy  of  contemplation, 
namely,  the  direful  effects  which  such  a 
"fiery  shower"  might,  in  the  absence  of 
that  law  of  harmony  which  governs  the 
universe,  have  unquestionably  produced. 
Had  the  meteors  been  constituted  of  mate 
rials  a  little  more  dense,  their  momentum 
would  have  enabled  them  to  reach  the 
earth  ;  and  had  they  held  on  their  course 
three  seconds  longer,  it  is  impossible  to 
conceive  of  the  calamities  which  would 
have  ensued  by  the  descent  to  the  earth  of 
bodies  of  such  magnitude,  glowing  with 
the  most  intense  heat.  Half  the  continent 
must  have  been  involved  in  one  common 
destruction  ! 

One  of  the  most  interesting  facts  per 
taining  to  this  grand  celestial  phenomenon, 
is  its  periodical  character.  Between  the 
years  903  and  1833,  of  the  modern  era, 
thirteen  of  these  great  showers  are  re 
corded,  separated  from  each  other  by  inter 
vals  of  thirty-three  and  sixty-six  years. 
It  is  not  a  little  remarkable,  too,  that  the 
epoch  of  these  periodic  displays  coincides 
with  the  annual  November  showers  so 
familiar  in  their  occurrence  to  all,  and 


that  their  point  of  divergence  in  the  heav 
ens  is  the  same.  Indeed,  the  phenomenon 
of  the  long  interval  or  period  differs  from 
that  of  the  annual  period  only  in  its 
numerical  character. 

The  last  of  these  magnificent  stellar 
showers — second,  perhaps,  in  grandeur  of 
demonstration  to  that  of  November,  1833, 
which  latter  stands  solitary  in  its  unsur 
passed  extent  and  splendor,  —  occurred 
November  fourteenth,  1867,  beginning  at 
about  three  o'clock  in  the  morning.  At 
half-past  three,  a  meteor  of  a  greenish  blue 
color,  and  about  the  size  of  a  star  of  the 
first  magnitude,  shot  out  from  the  direc 
tion  of  the  constellation  Leo,  lighting  up 
the  sky  with  a  long  train  of  crimson  fire, 
and  traveling  in  a  north-westerly  direction. 
It  had  scarcely  faded  from  the  sight,  when 
another  and  equally  brilliant,  though  not 
quite  so  large,  came  speeding  along  in  its 
track,  and  it  was  followed  by  fourteen  of 
smaller  magnitude,  one  by  one,  in  quick 
succession.  At  this  moment  a  heavy 
cloud  drifted  towards  the  north,  and  for 
some  minutes  the  spectacle  was  partially 
lost  to  view.  That  the  meteors  were  fall 
ing  rapidly,  however,  was  plainly  evident; 
for,  from  all  points  where  the  mass  of 
clouds  was  thin,  occasional  meteors  flashed 
out,  and  the  frequent  lighting  up  of  the 
clouds,  as  they  passed  over,  left  no  doubt 
that  the  mysterious  phenomenon  was 
having  full  play  in  the  regions  beyond. 

At  ten  minutes  before  four  o'clock,  the 
northern  sky  again  became  clear;  a  thick 
and  almost  impenetrable  cloud  passed  over 
the  moon,  partially  obscuring  its  light, 
and  thus  enabling  the  observers  to  view 
with  greater  distinctness  the  size  and  bril 
liancy  of  the  meteors. 

The  display  was  now  a  most  magnifi 
cent  one  indeed.  The  meteors  shot  out 
from  Leo  in  all  directions,  and  with 
remarkable  swiftness  traveled  across  the 
horizon.  Sixty-three  were  counted  in  one 
minute  and  ten  seconds,  of  which  three 
were  of  extraordinary  size  and  beauty. 
One  of  these,  of  a  greenish  hue,  and  fol 
lowed  by  a  long  train  of  the  same  color, 
traveled  in  the  direction  of  Ursa  Major, 


336 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


and  as  it  was  disappearing  in  the  southern 
horizon,  apparently  burst,  lighting  up  the 
sky  for  a  great  distance  on  all  sides.  It 
soon  became  utterly  impossible  to  keep  any 
correct  account  of  the  number  falling. 
Eight,  ten  and  twelve  sped  onwards,  on 
their  erratic  course,  at  the  same  moment, 
scarcely  disappearing  before  others  of 
equal  splendor  took  their  places.  For 
fully  twenty  minutes  they  continued  to 
fall  with  the  same  rapidity,  during  which 
time,  there  were  counted,  exclusive  of  tho  e 
already  mentioned,  three  hundred  and 
thirteen.  This  number,  however,  was  not 
one-fifth  of  that  which  really  fell,  as 
observed  in  New  York  city.  Not  less 
than  fifteen  hundred  or  two  thousand  were 
estimated  by  observers  at  that  city,  to 
have  radiated  from  Leo,  during  this  space 
of  time,  some  of  which  were  splendid  in 
color  and  movement. 

One  of  the  meteors  constituting  this 
display  is  described  as  of  surpassing 
beauty,  size  and  brilliancy.  It  radiated 
from  Leo,  and  took  a  direct  northerly 
course  toward  Ursa  Major,  followed  by  a 
long  train  of  a  yellowish  red  hue,  which 
spanned  the  horizon  from  its  point  of 
appearance  to  that  of  its  disappearance. 
This  meteor  was  of  the  same  greenish  blue 
color  as  the  others  which  preceded  it, 


and  as  it  passed  over  about  one-half  of  the 
course  traversed,  it  seemed  to  burst,  and 
then  the  spectacle  was  one  of  extreme 
beauty.  Apparently,  hundreds  of  frag 
ments  cf  an  almost  blood-red  color  broke 
from  it  and  scattered  in  every  direction, 
while  it  continued  its  course  towards  the 
north,  no  longer  wearing  its  greenish-blue 
color,  but  of  one  uniform  and  beautiful 
blue.  The  panorama  it  presented  was 
exceedingly  grand,  and  lasted  about  three 
minutes,  before  the  varied  colors  disap 
peared  and  the  fire-lit  skies  resumed  their 
wonted  serenity.  After  the  appearance  of 
this,  the  display  gradually  died  away. 

Although  it  is  doubtful,  from  the  want 
of  the  requisite  data,  whether  the  source 
of  the  meteors,  or  the  height  of  the  mete 
oric  cloud,  has  been  accurately  ascertained, 
3-et  the  truth  in  regard  to  the  latter  may 
be  approximated.  According  to  the  estab 
lished  laws  of  falling  bodies,  the  velocity 
the  meteors  would  acquire  in  falling  from 
a  point  two  thousand  two  hundred  and 
thirt3'-eight  miles  above  the  earth  to  within 
fifty  miles  of  its  surface — this  being  con 
sidered  as  nearly  the  height  of  the  atmos 
phere — is  about  four  miles  per  second, 
which  is  more  than  ten  times  the  maxi 
mum  velocity  of  a  cannon-ball,  and  about 
nineteen  times  that  of  sound ! 


XXXVII. 

ATTEMPTED   ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT   JACKSON, 
AT   THE  UNITED   STATES   CAPITOL  IN  WASHING 
TON,  BY    RICHARD    LAWRENCE.— 1835. 


Failure  of  the  Pistols  to  Discharge — The  President  Rushes  Furiously  Upon  His  Assailant,  and  ia 
Restrained  from  Executing  Summary  Vengeance  only  by  His  Friends. — Political  Hostility  Supposed, 
at  First,  to  Have  Instigated  the  Act. — Lawrence  Proves  to  he  a  Lunatic,  Without  Accomplices. — His 
History  and  Trial. — Funeral  of  a  Member  of  Congress. — Great  Concourse  at  the  Capitol. — President 
Jackson  and  Cabinet  Present. — Lawrence  Enters  During  the  Sermon — Moves  to  the  Eastern  Portico. 
— President  Jackson  Leaves  with  Secretary  Woodbury. — Their  Carriage  at  the  Portico  Steps. — 
Approach  to  Lawrence's  Position  — He  Levels  a  Pistol  at  Jackson. — Explosion  of  the  Percussion  Cap. 
— A  Second  Pistol  Snapped. — Jackson  Raises  His  Cane  Fiercely. — Lion-Like  Energy  of  the  Old  Hero. 
— Is  with  Difficulty  Kept  Back. — Lawrence  Stunned  and  Secured.  — His  Perfect  Calmness  Through 
All. — The  Crowd  Wish  to  Kill  Him. — Fine  Appearance  of  the  Assassin — Krank  Avowal  of  His 
Motives. — Insane  Idea  Possessing  Him.— Claims  to  be  a  King. — Is  Confined  in  a  Madhouse. 


"  Let  me  ero.  centlemen  I    I  am  not  afraid— they  CAN'T  kill  me— I  can  protect  myself !  "—JACKSON'S  EXCLAMATION  WREN  Rusmxo 
Upon  TUB  ASSASSIN. 


IKE  wildfire   on   the  flowing  prairie,  did  the  announcement  of   the    attempted 

assassination  of  President  Andrew  Jackson,  on  the 
thirtieth  of  January,  1835,  spread  over  the  country, 
to  its  furthermost  limits.  Consternation  filled  the 
public  mind,  at  the  thought  that  the  tragical  mode 
of  dealing  with  the  crowned  heads  of  kingdoms  and 
empires,  had  at  last  been  tried — though  fortunately 
with  abortive  result — upon  the  person  of  the  popu 
larly  elected  ruler  of  a  free  republic  ? 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  day  above-named,  while 
President  Jackson  was  in  the  capitol,  in  attendance 
on  the  funeral   of  the  Hon.   Warren  R.  Davis,  of 
THE  PRESERVATION.  South     Carolina,    Richard      Lawrence,    a    painter, 

residing  in  Washington,  attempted  to  shoot  him.  This  individual  was  seen 
to  enter  the  hall  of  the  house  of  representatives  during  the  delivery  of  the  funeral 
sermon ;  before  its  close,  however,  he  had  taken  his  stand  on  the  eastern 
portico,  near  one  of  the  columns.  The  president,  with  the  secretary  of  the 
treasury  on  his  left  arm,  on  retiring  from  the  rotunda  to  reach  his  carriage  at  the 
steps  of  the  portico,  advanced  towards  the  spot  where  Lawrence  stood, — who  had  his 
pistol  concealed  under  his  coat,  —  and  when  he  approached  within  two  yards  and 
22 


338 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


a  half  of  him,  the  assassin  extended  his 
arm  and  leveled  the  pistol  at  the  presi 
dent's  breast.  The  percussion  cap  ex 
ploded  with  a  noise  so  great,  that  several 
witnesses  supposed  the  pistol  had  tired. 
On  the  instant,  the  assassin  dropped  the 
pistol  from  his  right  hand,  and  taking 
another  read}'  cocked  from  his  left,  pre 
sented  and  snapped  it  at  the  president, 
who  at  the  moment  raised  his  cane  and 
made  for  the  assailant  with  lion-like 
energy,  and  would  have  executed  summary 
vengeance ;  but  Secretary  Woodbury  and 
Lieutenant  Gedney  at  the  same  instant 
laid  hold  of  the  man,  who  gave  way 
through  the  crowd  and  was  at  last  knocked 
down,  the  president  pressing  after  him 
until  he  saw  he  was  secured.  The  presi 
dent's  friends  then  urged  him  to  go  to  the 
capitol,  which  the  brave-hearted  man  did, 
with  great  firmness  and  self-possession, 
though  during  the  eventful  moment  the 
president's  commanding  voice  was  heard 
above  all  others,  as,  tearing  himself  from 
his  friends  and  rushing  upon  the  assassin, 
he  said,  "Let  me  go,  gentlemen, — I  am  not 
afraid — they  can't  kill  me — /  can  protect 
myself!  "  As  soon  as  the  act  was  known 
to  the  crowd,  they  wished  to  kill  the  assas 
sin  on  the  spot. 

Lawrence  was  forthwith  carried  to  jail, 
after  a  brief  preliminary  examination 
before  Judge  Cranch.  At  this  examina 
tion,  Mr.  Randolph,  sergeant  of  the  house 
of  representatives,  who  attended  the  mar 
shal  to  conduct  the  prisoner  to  the  city 
hall,  gave  in  testimony  that  the  prisoner, 
•when  asked  by  the  marshal  what  motive 
he  had  to  make  his  horrid  attempt,  stated 
that  the  president  had  killed  his  father. 
His  father  was  an  Englishman  who  died 
many  years  ago  in  Washington.  The  son 
himself  was  apprenticed  afterwards  to  a 
Mr.  Clark,  with  whom  he  lived  three  years. 
Mr.  Clark,  when  called  upon,  said  that  he 
was  a  young  man  of  excellent  habits,  sober 
and  industrious;  that  he  had  seen  him 
very  frequently,  and  was  well  acquainted 
with  him  since  he  had  left  his  family,  and 
had  heard  nothing  to  his  disadvantage, 
until,  of  late,  he  was  informed  of  his  being 


quarrelsome  among  his  friends,  and  had 
treated  one  of  his  sisters  badly. 

The  total  absence  of  any  personal  motive 
on  the  part  of  the  prisoner  to  commit  the 
deed  he  attempted,  suggested  the  idea  that 
he  must  be  insane.  But  his  demeanor 
when  committing  the  act,  and  on  being 
seized,  as  well  as  when  examined,  bore  not 
the  slightest  appearance  of  frenzy,  or 
derangement  of  stny  sort.  When  asked 
by  the  court  if  he  wished  to  cross-examine 
the  witnesses,  or  to  make  explanation,  he 
answered  in  the  negative — said  that  those 
who  had  seen  the  act  could  state  the  facts 
— and  at  the  conclusion,  when  asked  if  he 
had  anything  to  offer,  said  that  he  could 
not  contradict  what  had  been  given  in 
evidence.  In  the  midst  of  the  excitement 
and  anxiety  which  prevailed  around  him, 
Lawrence  appeared  perfectly  calm  and 
collected;  and  the  president,  in  speaking 
of  the  event,  remarked  that  Lawrence's 
manner,  from  the  moment  his  eye  caught 
his,  was  firm  and  resolved,  until  the  failure 
of  his  last  pistol,  when  he  seemed  to  shrink, 
rather  than  resist. 

Lawrence  was  a  handsome  young  man 
of  about  thirty-five  years,  small  in  stature, 
pale  complexion,  black  hair,  dark  eyes, 
genteel  deportment,  and  well-dressed.  The 
keeper  of  the  rotunda  stated  that  he  had 
frequently  observed  the  man  about  the 
capitol,  so  frequently  that  he  had  endeav 
ored  to  draw  him  into  conversation,  but 
found  him  taciturn  and  unwilling  to  talk. 
On  the  day  in  question,  he  kept  prowling 
about,  but  did  not  come  within  the  railing 
near  the  members'  seats;  his  hand  was 
held  inside  his  vest,  as  if  grasping  some 
thing,  and  his  lips  were  pale  and  quiver 
ing.  On  his  pistols  being  taken  from  him, 
after  the  affair,  they  were  found  to  be  a 
very  elegant  pair,  in  most  excellent  order, 
and  loaded  with  powder  and  ball  almost  to 
the  muzzle,  the  barrels  being  about  six 
inches  long.  On  examining  the  load  in 
one  of  the  pistols,  a  ball  was  drawn  out  by 
means  of  a  screw,  about  sixty  of  which 
balls  would  have  made  a  pound ;  it  was 
well  packed,  and  forced  down  tight  on  a 
full  charge  of  excellent  glazed  powder.  It 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


339 


was  a  most  astonishing  circumstance, 
loaded  as  they  were  and  with  percussion 
caps,  that  the  pistols  missed  fire.  In  view 
of  this  latter  fact,  Mr.  Key,  the  district 
attorney,  and  General  Hunter,  the  marshal 
of  the  district,  lost  no  time  in  testing  the 
actual  condition  of  the  weapons,  the  pistol 
still  loaded  being  first  tried,  by  putting  on 
another  cap.  The  tube  of  this  pistol 
showed  the  powder  at  its  summit.  Gen 
eral  Hunter,  by  inclining  the  pistol,  threw 
out  a  few  grains  of  the  powder  in  his 
hand.  They  took  from  a  box  of  caps  found 


each  of  the  pistols,  several  times,  without 
taking  any  other  means  of  forcing  the 
powder  into  the  tubes  than  that  of  ram 
ming  home  small  paper  wads  on  the 
charges.  The  discharge  of  the  weapons 
took  effect  on  every  trial.  So  great  was 
the  excitement  produced  by  the  affair, 
that  some  of  the  most  eminent  political 
opponents  of  the  president,  including  such 
men  as  Clay,  Calhoun,  Poindexter,  White, 
and  others,  were,  in  the  frenzy  of  the 
moment,  suspected  of  having  conspired  in 
a  plot  to  get  rid  of  the  president ! 


ATTEMPTED  ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  JACKSON. 


in  Lawrence's  shop  without  selecting  it, 
one,  which  was  placed  upon  the  tube.  On 
Major  Donelson  firing  it,  the  ball  passed 
through  an  inch  plank,  at  a  distance  of 
about  five  or  six  yards,  and  lodged,  nearly 
buried,  in  the  opposite  side  of  the  enclos 
ure,  six  or  seven  yards  distant.  They 
then  loaded  with  a  small  quantity  of  the 
powder  found  in  the  prisoner's  possession, 


It  was  ascertained  that,  some  time  pre 
vious,  Lawrence  had  formed  an  attachment 
to  a  young  lad}r,  and  frequently  told  his 
sister  that  he  would  by  his  industry  soon 
be  enabled  to  buy  a  corner  lot  near  her, 
and  build  on  it  a  good  house,  when  he 
would  marry  the  object  of  his  attachment; 
and,  with  this  view,  he  labored  diligently, 
day  and  night,  until  he  had  by  him  about 


340 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


eight  hundred  dollars.  He  was  disap 
pointed — became  extremely  pensive — quit 
all  employment  —  and  would  stand  for 
hours  in  a  little  parlor,  gazing  upon  the 
spot  which  he  had  selected  as  his  future 
residence.  Up  to  this  time,  he  was  quiet, 
kind  and  affectionate. 

His  brother-in-law,  with  whom  he  lived, 
endeavored  to  persuade  Lawrence  to 
resume  his  work — he  said  that  he  would 
go  to  England,  that  he  had  something  of 
great  importance  which  demanded  his 
presence,  and  in  the  fall  of  1833  went  to 
New  York  for  the  purpose  of  taking  pas 
sage  from  that  port.  During  the  winter 
he  returned,  saying  that  he  found  the 
papers  filled  with  notices  of  his  contem 
plated  enterprise,  and  that  he  could  get  no 
captain  to  take  him  on  board.  In  the 
spring  of  1834.  he  again  went  as  far  as 
Philadelphia,  put  up  at  the  Mansion  House, 
kept  his  room,  or  else  would  stand  for 
hours  on  the  porch,  engaged  in  deep 
thought,  without  speaking  to  any  one. 
After  a  few  days  he  returned  to  Washing 
ton,  and  said  that  he  found  his  purpose  of 
going  to  England  was  known,  that  none  of 
the  captains  would  consent  to  take  him  on 
board,  but  that  he  would  soon  have  a  vessel 
of  his  own — that  he  had  engaged  men  who 
would  put  all  things  right.  About  this 
time  he  became  very  quarrelsome,  and  his 
relatives  were  afraid  to  keep  him  in  the 
house.  His  brother-in-law  endeavored 
again  to  induce  him  to  go  to  work,  which 
he  obstinately  refused  to  do,  saying  that 
his  hands  would  do  no  more  work — that 
others  might  work,  but,  as  for  him,  he 
would  soon  have  money  enough.  At 
length,  he  committed  an  assault  upon  his 
sister,  for  which  he  was  handed  over  to  the 
officers  of  justice,  and  lodged  in  jail.  The 
case  was  carried  before  the  grand  jury, 
only  a  short  time  previous  to  the  assault 
on  the  president,  and,  after  an  examina 
tion  of  witnesses  who  knew  him,  the  grand 
jury  refused  to  find  a  bill  against  him,  on 
the  ground  of  his  insanity. 

In  a  conversation  between  Lawrence 
and  some  visitors,  held  soon  after  the  rash 
act,  the  following  curious  statements  were 


made   by   the   prisoner,   in    reply    to    the 
questions  put  to  him  : 

"  What  object  had  you  in  view  in  shoot 
ing  the  president  ?  " 

"About  ten  days  before  making  the 
attempt,  I  called  on  the  president  at  his 
house,  and  stated  to  him  that  I  was  in 
want  of  money,  and  wished  him  to  give  a 
check  for  it.  The  president  made  no  par 
ticular  objection  to  this  demand,  but  stated 
that  Mr.  Dibble  wished  to  see  him,  and 
that  I  must  call  again." 

"  Do  you  suppose  the  president  knew  of 
your  intention  to  kill  him  ?  " 

'•He  must  have  known  what  my  inten 
tion  was,  if  he  did  not  comply  with  my 
wishes." 

"  Why  did  you  call  upon  the  president 
with  such  a  demand  ?  " 

"  Because  he  knew,  as  I  supposed  every 
person  did,  the  true  situation  of  things. 
The  president  is  my  clerk,  and  I  have 
control  over  his  money  and  his  bank,  and 
the  sword ;  and  if  he  refused  to  comply, 
he  knew  the  consequences." 

"  By  what  means  did  you  expect  to 
enforce  compliance  with  your  wishes,  and 
how  much  money  did  you  expect  to  get  ?  " 

"The  president  knew  I  had  the  right  to 
the  money,  and,  if  he  refused,  that  I  had 
the  right  to  kill  him.  One  or  two  thou 
sand  dollars  would  have  satisfied  me,  but 
I  would  have  accepted  three  or  fonr  hun 
dred." 

"  How  came  the  president  to  know  that 
you  had  the  right  ?  " 

"Because  there  was  an  understanding, 
and  it  would  have  been  taking  the  law  in 
his  own  hands  to  refuse." 

"Did  you  expect  any  aid  in  your  under 
taking  to  kill  the  president?" 

"No,  I  needed  none.  I  have  the  right 
to  the  crown  of  England.  It  has  always 
been  in  my  ancestors.  They  were  deprived 
of  it  by  force.  My  father  was  then  re 
duced  to  labor,  and  had  to  drive  a  coal  cart 
in  England.  He  was  fond  of  hunting, 
riding,  and  shooting,  and  was  frequently 
called  on  by  noblemen  and  persons  of  dis 
tinction,  notwithstanding  his  reduced  cir 
cumstances." 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


341 


"  How  came  General  Jackson  to  get  the 
power  over  your  rights  and  money  ?" 

"  The  first  cause  was  what  took  place 
at  Orleans.  He  leagued  in  with  Lord 
Wellington,  and  the  consequence  was,  that 
out  of  twenty-five  thousand  English  sol 
diers  sent  over,  only  a  small  remnant  was 
left ;  with  the  aid  of  cotton-bags  fixed  by 
Jackson,  they  were  wasted  away.  A 
number  of  officers  were  drafted  for  this 
campaign,  among  them  Pakenham  and 
Gibbs,  and  they  were  killed.  This  is  the 
unjust  treatment  my  father  received  on 
that  occasion,  and  it  is  my  business  to  put 
things  right — I  have  the  power — Jackson 
is  my  clerk — he  knew  what  would  be  the 
consequence  of  refusing  to  obey." 

"  If  you  were  now  set  at  liberty,  would 
you  endeavor  to  go  on  with  your  determin 
ation  ?  " 

"  After  a  while,  I  should  call  on  the 
president  for  the  money,  and  if  he  refused, 
I  would  pursue  the  same  plan  I  did 
before." 

On  the  day  appointed  for  the  trial  of 
Lawrence,  he  appeared  in  court  dressed  in 
a  gray  coat,  black  cravat  and  vest,  and 
brown  pantaloons.  His  conduct  was  that  of 
a  man  perfectly  at  his  ease,  and  collected, 
though  his  e}res  showed  indications  of 
mania,  and  there  was  an  evident  assump 
tion  of  kingly  dignity  in  his  demeanor 
and  the  expression  of  his  countenance. 
He  took  hi-s  seat,  however,  very  quietly  by 
the  side  of  his  counsel,  and  conversed 
smilingly  with  them.  That  his  appear 
ance  was  decidedly  handsome  and  prepos 
sessing,  was  the  opinion  universally  ex 
pressed. 

The  witnesses  having  been  called  into 
court,  Mr.  Key,  the  prosecuting  attorne}', 
commenced  some  observations  to  the 
bench,  when — up  jumped  Lawrence  from 
his  chair,  under  evident  excitement  of 
mind,  and  said  he  wished  to  know  whether 
it  was  correct  to  bring  him  or  not  ?  He 
claimed  the  crown  of  Great  Britain,  he 
said,  and  also  that  of  the  United  States ; 
and  he  wished  to  know  if  they  could  bring 
him  there  ?  The  judge  desired  him  to 
take  his  seat,  and  to  allow  his  counsel  to 


manage  his  case  for  him.  Lawrence  com 
plied,  but  still  continued  the  subject,  in 
conversation  with  his  counsel.  The  latter 
now  inquired  of  the  court,  whether,  as  this 
was  simply  the  case  of  a  misdemeanor,  the 
presence  of  the  prisoner,  considering  his 
state  of  mind,  might  not  be  dispensed  with. 
Lawrence  again  rose,  and  addressed  the 
court,  saying,  "  I  wish  to  know,  if,  having, 

as  I  have,  the  sword ."     He  was  again 

stopped.  His  counsel  once  more,  but  still 
without  success,  appealed  to  the  bench, 


RICHARD  LAWREXCE. 


to  allow  the  prisoner  to  be  removed, 
saying  that  he  had  done  all  he  could  to 
quiet  the  man's  feelings,  but  had  not  been 
able  to  present  any  course  of  which  he 
would  make  choice.  The  judge  replied, 
that  it  was  always  customary  for  the  pris 
oner  to  be  in  court,  in  cases  like  this ;  he 
wished  the  trial  to  proceed  in  the  ordinary 
way.  On  proceeding  to  call  the  panel,  the 
following  passage  ensued : 

"  I  observe,"  said  Lawrence,  "  that  a 
jury  has  been  called.  I  wish  to  know  if 
this  is  correct.  I  certainly  am  king  !  " 

"  You  must  sit  down,"  commanded  the 
judge,  "and  be  quiet,  Mr.  Lawrence,  until 
called  on  to  answer." 

Lawrence  sat  down ;  but  not  until  he 
had  reiterated  the  assertion  that  he  was 
king  of  Great  Britain,  and  likewise  of 
America,  and  that  he  was  protected  by  the 
law  in  his  claim. 

On  the  examination  of  witnesses,  Sec 
retary  Woodbury  testified  as  follows  :  On 
the  occasion  of  the  funeral  ceremony  which 
took  place  in  the  hall  of  the  house  of  rep 
resentatives,  in  consequence  of  the  death 
of  one  of  its  members,  I  attended,  together 


342 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


with  the  president  and  other  officers  of  the 
government ;  had  listened  to  the  funeral 
service  in  the  hall  ;  left  it;  the  president 
being  on  my  right  arm,  had  passed  through 
the  rotunda,  and  through  the  eastern  door, 
where  we  came  rather  to  a  halt — being  in 
the  rear, — in  consequence  of  the  delay 
occasioned  by  the  gentlemen  who  had  pre 
ceded  us  getting  into  the  coaches.  We 
had  perhaps  passed  some  two  or  three  steps 
on  to  the  portico,  when  I  heard  A  noise 
like  the  discharge  of  a  pistol ;  looked 
round  directly,  and  there  saw  a  person, 
about  six  or  eight  feet,  a  little  obliquely  to 
the  left,  who  was  just  in  the  act  of  lower 
ing  his  hand  when  my  eye  caught  him. 
It  was  the  prisoner  at  the  bar.  Saw  him 
distinctly  when  I  turned,  and  saw  the 
pistol  in  his  hand ;  presumed  he  was  the 
person  who  fired.  It  was  directed  right 
towards  the  president.  At  first  I  doubted 
whether  it  was  not  myself  who  was  aimed 
at,  but  saw  that  it  was  towards  the  presi 
dent,  who  was  on  my  right ;  turned  to  the 
president  to  see  if  he  was  injured,  and, 
seeing  that  he  was  not,  I  turned  to  look 
for  the  prisoner.  He  was  then  in  the  act 
of  raising  his  hand  again  ;  had  something 
in  it;  presumed  it  was  a  pistol.  I  gave  a 
pull  from  the  president's  arm  and  sprang 
towards  the  prisoner,  seized  him  by  the 
collar,  and  at  that  moment  the  second 
explosion  took  place.  Other  persons  had 
previously  got  hold  of  him,  which  proceed 
ing  appeared  to  have  rather  put  him  out  of 
his  first  position  ;  they  continued  to  pull 
him,  with  some  violence,  in  a  somewhat 
opposite  direction.  Seeing  he  was  secured, 
and  that  there  was  reason  to  believe  he 
had  no  other  weapon,  I  let  go  my  hold  to 
learn  what  was  the  state  of  the  president. 
The  prisoner  was  dragged  forwards  towards 
the  front  of  the  piazza.  I  saw  no  more  of 
him  until  I  saw  him  here  an  hour  after. 
Found  the  president  in  the  crowd,  and  went 
home  with  him. 

Secretary  Dickerson  stated  the  circum 
stances  of  the  assault,  as  observed  by  him, 
to  be  as  follows  :  I  went  with  other  gentle 
men  of  the  cabinet,  to  the  capitol,  on  the 
day  of  the  funeral  of  the  Hon.  W.  R. 


Davis.  After  the  service  in  the  hall,  the 
procession  moved  forward  towards  the 
eastern  colonnade,  there  being  a  great 
crowd.  I  was  a  little  to  the  rear  of  the 
president,  and  at  the  door  of  the  colonnade 
there  was  a  halt,  which  brought  me  up 
nearly  to  his  side.  I  had  advanced,  I 
think,  about  two  steps  from  the  door,  when 
I  heard  the  discharge  of  a  pocket  pistol ; 
have  certainly  heard  such  pistols  dis 
charged  without  making  a  louder  report — 
it  being  in  the  colonnade  might  have 
increased  the  sound.  On  turning  my  eye, 
I  saw  that  some  men  had  laid  hold  of  an 
individual.  I  was  to  the  left  of  the  presi 
dent,  and  saw  Lieutenant  Gedney,  who 
seemed  to  be  tr}'ing  to  get  the  man  down, 
but  I  could  not  see  the  man.  It  was  some 
seconds  before  the  prisoner  could  get  at 
his  other  pistol,  and  when  he  did,  from  his 
altered  position,  he  had  to  throw  his  arm 
over  to  get  aim  at  the  president.  The 
latter  must  have  been  struck,  had  a  dis 
charge  taken  place.  In  an  instant  from 
this  time,  the  prisoner  was  crushed  to  the 
floor,  but  was  soon  raised  again.  Mr. 
Gillet,  a  member  of  congress  from  New 
York  state,  a  very  strong  man,  had  hold 
of  him,  as  also  had  Lieutenant  Gedney. 
I  looked  at  the  prisoner,  and  kept  my  eye 
on  him,  so  as  to  be  certain  of  his  identity. 
About  the  instant  the  second  explosion 
took  place,  the  president  had  lifted  his 
stick  to  strike  the  prisoner,  but  made  no 
blow,  being  prevented  by  his  friends.  The 
crowd  coming  out  at  the  door  was  very 
great.  The  president  spoke  angrily  to 
those  who  prevented  him  from  getting 
at  Lawrence,  saying,  "  Let  me  alone ! 
Let  me  alone!"  I  recollect  hearing 
him  also  say,  "he  knew  where  this  came 
from  ! " 

After  some  further  evidence  on  the  part 
of  the  prosecution,  the  prisoner's  counsel 
asked  permission  of  the  judges  that  Law 
rence  might  leave  the  court,  saying  that  it 
was  painful  to  them  all  to  have  him 
remain — particularly  so  to  himself,  as  his 
counsel, — and  the  law  did  not  require  his 
presence.  Lawrence  now  rose,  and  ad 
dressed  the  judges  wildly,  saying — 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


343 


"  What  I  have  done  to  Jackson,  was  on 
account  of  money  which  he  owes  me.  I 
went  there  for  that  purpose.  I  consider 
all  in  this  court  as  under  me.  The  United 
States  bank  has  owed  me  money  ever  since 
1802,  and  I  want  my  money.  I  must 
have  my  revenue  from  that  bank.  You 
are  under  me,  gentlemen.  (Mr.  Wood 
ward,  the  deputy-marshal,  endeavoring  to 
prevail  on  him  to  resume  his  seat,  Law 
rence  turned  round,  indignantly,  and  said, 
'Mr.  Woodward/  mind  your  own  business, 
or  I  shall  treat  you  with  severity!')  It  is 
for  me,  gentlemen,  to  pass  upon  you,  and 
not  you  upon  me." 

Again  did  the  counsel  appeal  to  the 
feelings  of  the  court  to  spare  itself,  and 
the  jury,  this  painful  exhibition,  by  per 
mitting  Lawrence  to  depart  in  custody  of 
the  marshal.  He,  the  counsel,  felt,  for  his 
own  part,  that  he  could  not  do  justice  to 
the  cause  of  the  prisoner,  if  he  sat  beside 
him  ;  the  very  fact,  that  he  should  take  a 
course  in  the  defense  of  the  prisoner  with 
which  he  was  displeased,  would  prevent  it. 
The  court  replied,  that  Lawrence  should 
remain  until  proven  to  be  insane;  ne 
would,  however,  be  permitted  to  withdraw, 
if  it  was  his  own  wish  so  to  do.  The 
unfortunate  maniac  here  shouted  out — 

"  I  deny  the  power  of  the  court  to  try 
me — I  am  my  own  man — I  will  have  my 
revenue ! " 

Lawrence's  counsel  here  endeavored  to 
soothe  him,  by  telling  him  he  should  have 
his  rights.  "Ay,  but  when?"  "To 
day,"  replied  his  counsel ;  and  he  sat  down, 
contentedly,  on  this  assurance. 

It  was,  of  course,  not  at  all  difficult  for 
the  prisoner's  counsel  to  prove  his  insanity 
and  consequent  irresponsibleness.  Mr. 
Redfern,  who  married  Lawrence's  sister, 
testified  on  this  point,  to  the  following 
effect :  I  have  known  Lawrence  for  sixteen 
years,  and  first  observed  a  change  in  him 
in  1833.  In  the  fall  of  1832  he  left  Wash 
ington  with  the  intention,  he  said,  of  going 
to  England;  he  went  in  November,  and 
returned  again  in  December,  assigning  as 
a  reason,  that  the  weather  was  cold.  In 
the  spring  of  the  next  year,  he  started 


again  to  go  to  New  York  or  Philadelphia, 
but  he  certainly  got  no  farther  than  Phila 
delphia  ;  on  his  return  this  time,  he  said  the 
people  would  not  let  him  go,  that  the  gov 
ernment  opposed  his  going,  that  I  and 
others  had  prevented  him  ;  that  he  should 
not  be  able  to  go  until  he  got  a  ship  and 
captain  of  his  own, — that,  when  he  got  to 
Philadelphia,  he  found  all  the  papers  so 
full  about  him,  that  he  was  obliged  to 
come  back.  After  this,  he  remained  in 
my  house  six  months,  but  did  nothing, 
saying  he  had  no  occasion  to  labor,  that  he 
lived  on  his  people, — it  was  very  well  for 
men  such  as  me  to  work,  but  he  had  no 
such  need,  that  he  had  large  claims  on  this 
government  which  were  now  before  con 
gress.  He  used  to  attend  congress  regu 
larly.  In  January,  1834,  he  left  my 
house,  but,  previous  to  this,  had  got  quar 
relsome  with  his  sister,  said  the  colored 
girl  laughed  at  him  and  that  he  would  kill 
her,  and  that  other  people  also  laughed  at 
him.  He  struck  all  his  sisters  on  several 
occasions,  and  once  took  np  a  four-pound 
weight  to  throw  at  my  wife.  I  have  seen 
him  pass  since  this  time,  but  never  have 
spoken  to  him  since  1833;  he  would  go 
about  the  house,  without  speaking,  for 
days  together,  but  would  talk  and  laugh 
to  himself  continually  in  his  own  chamber. 
It  was  the  general  impression  of  the  neigh 
bors,  that  Lawrence  was  insane  from  the 
beginning  of  1833. 

The  question  being  put  to  Mr.  Redfern, 
as  to  whether  Lawrence  held  two  estates 
in  Ireland,  the  answer  was  in  the  nega 
tive.  On  asking  Lawrence  the  names  of 
his  estates,  he  replied,  very  gravely,  "Tre- 
gear  and  Kinnany  !  and  they  are  attached 
to  the  crown  of  England  !  " 

Similar  in  its  bearing,  was  the  testi 
mony  of  Mr.  Drury,  who  had  known  Law 
rence  twenty-five  years,  and  who  stated 
the  following  facts :  For  the  last  year  I 
have  observed  a  change  in  his  conduct ;  he 
would  talk  to  himself  continually  in  his 

shop,    sometimes   saying,    ' him,   he 

does  not  know  his  enemy ;  I  will  put  a 
pistol — erect  a  gallows.'  He  conceived 
himself  to  be  King  Richard  the  Third,  ol 


344 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


England,  and  likewise  king  of  this  coun 
try  ;  this  was  about  the  latter  end  of  last 
December,  or  the  beginning  of  January, 
after  which,  I  heard  him  say,  '  —  -  Gen 
eral  Jackson  !  who's  General  Jackson  ?  ' 
On  one  occasion  a  black  boy  called  to  col 
lect  a  bill,  and  Lawrence  said  he  would 
call  and  pay  it ;  but,  as  soon  as  the  boy 
had  left,  he  said,  '-  -  him!  he  don't 
know  who  he's  dunning!'  He  would 
stand  at  the  door  for  hours,  wrapt  in 
thought,  and,  even  when  I  passed,  he  took 
no  notice  of  me.  He  was  continually 
talking  to  himself,  and  would  now  and  then 
burst  into  fits  of  laughter.  I  noticed  no 
particular  change  in  him  as  to  dress — he 
was  always  fond  of  dress, — but  I  did  in  his 
conduct  and  appearance.  I  have  often 
said  he  was  a  crazy  man,  and  have  heard 
others  say  so ;  the  boys  would  call  him 
'King  Richard.'  On  the  morning  of  his 
attack  on  the  president,  he  came  to  the 
shop  at  the  usual  time,  and  went  to  a  place 
where  I  could  see  him  through  a  partition  ; 
he  was  sitting  on  a  chest,  with  a  book  in 
his  hand,  laughing.  I  heard  soon  after 
the  lid  of  the  chest  fall,  and  heard  him 
say,  '  ril  be-  -  If  I  don't  do  it ! '  He 
then  came  out,  left  the  shop,  and  locked 
the  door.  Lawrence  did  some  little  work 
within  the  last  twelve  months,  and  had  a 
shop.  I  had  a  room  adjoining  this. 

Much  testimony  of  the  same  purport  as 
the  preceding  was  brought  forward,  and 
nothing  of  a  conflicting  character  pre 
sented  itself.  The  law,  in  criminal  cases, 


says  that  the  existence  of  reason  is  neces 
sary  to  constitute  punishable  crime — its 
deprivation  renders  the  individual  dispun- 
ishable.  Acting  upon  this  ground,  several 
physicians  were  examined  as  to  their  opin 
ion  of  Lawrence's  condition,  judging  from 
the  facts  drawn  out  by  the  evidence,  and 
their  personal  interviews  with  the  prisoner. 
Their  testimony  was  unanimous  in  de 
claring  Lawrence's  state  of  mind  to  be 
that  of  morbid  delusion, — not  possessing  a 
judgment  of  right  and  wrong,  especially  as 
to  anything  connected  with  General  Jack 
son, — and  therefore  not  to  be  treated  as  a 
moral  agent.  Among  the  physicians  who 
expressed  this  as  their  decided  opinion, 
were  Messrs.  Coussin  and  Thomas  JSewell, 
two  of  the  most  eminent  in  their  profes 
sion. 

In  accordance  with  the  evidence  thus 
given,  the  jury  were  out  only  five  minutes, 
returning  at  once  with  a  verdict  of  "Not 
guilt}',  he  having  been  under  the  influence 
of  insanity  at  the  time  of  committing  the 
act."  But,  long  before  the  trial  and  its 
termination,  the  intense  excitement  pro 
duced  by  the  act,  throughout  the  country, 
had  almost  entirely  subsided, — the  first 
impression,  that  the  horrid  deed  had  been 
prompted  by  secret  political  conspiracy, 
under  partisan  instigation,  rapidly  dying 
away,  as  the  true  character  of  the  man  and 
his  unaided  deed  became  known.  Law 
rence  was  sent  to  a  lunatic  asylum,  where 
he  remained  an  inmate  thirty  or  forty 
years. 


XXXVIII. 
MORSE'S  INVENTION  OF  THE  ELECTRIC  TELEGRAPH,  1835. 


Realization  of  the  Highest  Ideal  of  a  Mechanical  Miracle. — Principle,  Structure,  and  Operation  of  the 
Machine. — Net-work  of  Lines  Established  Over  the  Four  Continents. — The  Inventor's  Experiments, 
Labors,  Discouragements,  and  Triumphs  — "  Orders  of  Glory,"  Gifts,  and  other  Honors,  Mesiowed 
Upon  Him  by  Crowned  Heads — Casual  Origin  of  the  Invention. — Mr.  M.'s  European  Voyage  in  1832. 
— Recent  French  Experiments  then  Discussed. — Important  Question  and  Answer. — Two  Great  Ex 
isting  Facts  — The  Electric  Spark  Transtnissive. — Easy  Control  of  the  Current — Theory  Applied  to 
Practice. — Completion  of  a  Crude  Model  — Private  Exhibition  in  1835. — Simplicity  of  the  Instru 
ment. — The  Invention  Made  Public  in  1837. — Wonder  and  Incredulity. — Appeal  to  Congress  for 
Pecuniary  Aid. — Merciless  Ridicule  Ensues — Scene  in  the  Committee-Room. —  A  Machine  at  the 
Capitol — Perfect  in  its  Operation. — Success  of  Morse's  Appeal. — His  Joy  at  the  Decision. — Putting 
up  the  Wires  to  Baltimore. — First  Message  Through. 


"Thatiteed  called  'Lightning'  («ay  the  Fate*) 
Is  owned  in  the  United  States: 
Twos  Franklin's  hand  that  caupht  the  horte; 
'Twa»  harneued  by  Protestor  Alone." 


INGS    and    courts,    presidents    and   cabinets,    have 
united  in  doing  honor    to  that  illustrious  American 
citizen,  who,  more  than  any  other  man  of  his  race, 
has  realized  to  the  human  mind  its  highest  ideal,  or 
conception,  of  a  mechanical  miracle,  through  human 
agency.     It  is  not  claimed  that,  previous  to  Profes 
sor  Morse's  achievement,  the  possibility  of  applying 
electricity  to  telegraphic  communication  had  not  oc 
cupied  other  minds,  but    that  to  him  belongs  the 
high  merit  of  having  effected,  after  years  of  patient 
g   ££•.;?  _/*     jgf>      study    and    ingenious  experiment, 
a  practical  application  of  the  great 
/~yi    scientific  principle  involved. 

In  the  year  1829,  Mr.  Morse, 
who  was  then  an  artist  of  much 
celebrity,  having,  more  than  fifteen 
years  previously,  exhibited  before 
the  Royal  Academy  of  England  his 
picture  of  "  The  Dying  Hercules," 
of  colossal  size,  made  a  second  pro 
fessional  visit  to  Europe,  where  he 
remained  three  years ;  and  it  was 
this  visit  which  proved,  through  a 
casual  circumstance,  of  so  much 
importance  to  himself,  to  science 
and  the  world, — for  it  was  on  his 
return  in  1832,  on  board  the  ship 
Sully,  that  he  made  that  great  dis- 
covery,  to  which  is  due  the  present 
system  of  telegraphing.  A  gen  tie- 


346 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


man  on  board  had  been  describing  some 
experiments  made  in  Paris  with  the 
electro-magnet,  and  the  question  arose  as 
to  the  time  occupied  by  the  fluid  in  pass 
ing  through  the  wire,  stated  to  be  one  hun 
dred  feet  in  length.  On  the  reply  that  it 
was  instantaneous,  Professor  Morse  (recol 
lecting  the  experiments  of  Franklin,) 
suggested  that  it  might  be  carried  to  any 
distance  instantly,  and  that  the  electric 
spark  could  be  made  a  means  of  conveying 
and  recording  intelligence.  Here  was  the 
idea,  but  a  greater  triumph  was  the  appli 
cation  of  the  theory  to  practice,  which  he 
successfully  accomplished,  after  much 
study  and  multitudinous  trials,  in  New 
York,  where,  in  1835,  he  put  in  operation 
the  model  of  his  recording  electric  tele 
graph. 

Professor  Morse's  discovery  was  based 
on  these  two  principal  facts,  namely:  that 
a  current  of  electricity  will  pass  to  any  dis 
tance  along  a  conductor  connecting  the  two 
poles  of  a  voltaic  battery,  and  produce 
visible  effects  at  any  desired  points  on  that 
conductor;  also,  that  magnetism  is  pro 
duced  in  a  piece  of  soft  iron,  around  which 
the  conductor,  in  its  progress,  is  made  to 
pass,  when  the  electric  current  is  permit 
ted  to  flow,  and  that  the  magnetism  ceases 
when  the  current  of  electricity  is  prevented 
from  flowing.  Hence,  if  the  end  of  a  soft 
iron  lever  be  placed  beneath  the  iron  to 
be  magnetized,  it  can  be  made  to  rise  and 
fall  as  the  electricity  flows,  or  is  inter 
rupted.  The  other  end  of  the  lever,  having 
a  point  in  it,  may  be  made  to  press  on  a 
strip  of  paper  or  not,  at  the  will  of  the 
operator.  This  point  may  be  made  to  im 
press  a  dot  or  a  line,  at  pleasure.  A  dot 
and  a  line  may  represent  letters,  and  by 
different  combinations  of  dots  and  lines 
any  letter  of  the  alphabet  could  be  repre 
sented.  The  operator  in  one  city  could 
make  the  apparatus  in  another  city,  at  any 
distance,  write  what  he  pleased,  by  break 
ing  and  closing  the  circuit  at  longer  or 
shorter  intervals. 

The  invention,  as  thus  devised  by  Pro 
fessor  Morse,  and  as  described  in  a  popular 
way  by  Antisell,  Bakewell  and  others, 


is  a  recording  instrument,  that  embosses 
the  symbols  upon  paper,  with  a  point 
pressed  down  upon  it  by  an  electro-magnet ; 
the  symbols  that  form  the  alphabet  con 
sisting  of  combinations  of  short  and  long 
strokes,  and  made  to  stand  for  different 
letters,  by  their  repetitions  and  variations. 
Thus  a  stroke  followed  by  a  dot  signifies 
the  first  letter  of  the  alphabet ;  a  stroke 
preceded  by  a  dot,  the  second  letter ;  a 
single  dot,  the  third  letter ;  and  in  this 
manner  the  whole  alphabet  could  easily  be 
indicated,  the  number  of  repetitions  in  no 
case  exceeding  four  for  each  letter, — the 
letters  and  words  being  distinguished  from 
one  another  by  a  longer  space  being  left 
between  them  than  between  each  mark 
that  forms  only  a  part  of  a  letter  or  of  a 
word. 

Simplicity  characterized  this  instrument 
in  an  eminent  degree.  The  transmitter  is 
merely  a  spring  key,  like  that  of  a  musical 
instrument,  which,  on  being  pressed  down, 
makes  contact  with  the  voltaic  battery, 
and  sends  an  electric  current  to  the  receiv 
ing  station.  The  operator  at  the  trans 
mitting  station,  by  thus  making  contact, 
brings  into  action  an  electro-magnet  at  the 
station  he  communicates  with,  and  that  pulls 
down  a  point  fixed  to  the  soft-iron  lever 
upon  a  strip  of  paper  that  is  kept  mov 
ing  by  clock-work  slowly  under  it.  The 
duration  of  the  pressure  on  the  ke}r, 
whether  instantaneous  or  prolonged  for  a 
moment,  occasions  the  difference  in  the 
lengths  of  the  lines  indented  on  the  paper. 
A  single  circuit  is  sufficient  for  the  pur 
pose,  as  well  as  very  effective. 

As  the  working  of  this  telegraph  depends 
upon  bringing  into  action  at  the  receiving 
station  an  electro-magnet  of  force  equal  to 
mechanically  indenting  paper,  and  as  the 
resistance  to  the  passage  of  electricity 
along  the  wires  diminishes  the  quantity 
transmitted  so  greatly,  that  at  long  dis 
tances  it  was  supposed  to  be  almost 
impossible  to  obtain  sufficient  power  for 
the  purpose,  if  it  acted  directly, — to  over 
come  this  difficulty,  an  auxiliary  electro 
magnet  was  employed.  The  electro 
magnet  which  is  directly  in  connection 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


347 


with  the  telegraph  wire  is  a  small  one, 
surrounded  by  about  five  hundred  yards 
or  more  of  very  fine  wire,  for  the  purpose 
of  multiplying  as  much  as  possible  the 
effect  of  the  feeble  current  that  is  trans 
mitted.  The  soft-iron  keeper,  which  is 
attracted  by  the  magnet,  is  also  very  light, 
so  that  it  may  be  the  more  readily  attracted. 
This  highly  sensitive  instrument  serves  to 
make  and  break  contact  with  a  local  bat 
tery,  which  brings  into  action  a  large 
electro-magnet,  and  as  the  local  battery 
and  the  magnet  are  close  to  the  place 
where  the  work  is  to  be  done,  any  required 
force  may  be  easily  obtained. 

The  batteries  used  are  Grove's  zinc  and 
platinum,  and  two  liquids  ;  any  number  of 
these  may  be  used.  To  form  the  electric 


THE  ORIGINAL  INSTRUMENT. 

circuit,  one  end  of  a  copper  wire  is  attached 
to  the  end  platina  plate,  and  the  other 
end  of  the  copper  wire  to  the  zinc  cylinder. 
A  wire  is  not  required  to  run  round  all 
the  circuit — any  metallic  connection,  such 
as  brass  plates,  etc.,  may  form  part  of  it. 
In  the  practical  working  of  the  telegraph, 
— the  battery  with  the  key  attached,  and 
a  small  table,  being  supposed,  for  example, 
to  be  at  the  Philadelphia  station,  and  the 
telegraph  register  to  be  at  New  York, — 
a  wire  runs  from  the  platina  plate  up  to 
the  metallic  binding  screw  connection  on 


the  small  table,  and  the  other  wire  runs 
from  the  zinc,  and  is  connected  by  the  first 
wire  by  the  metallic  connection  of  the 
register  at  New  York.  This  forms  the 
circuit.  The  key  is  fixed  upon  a  pivot 
axis,  to  be  gently  pressed  by  the  operator's 
fingers  on  the  top  of  an  ivory  button. 
The  circuit  is  now  broken,  and  a  small  gap 
in  the  key  above  the  wire  from  the  battery 
shows  the  metallic  connection  to  be  open. 
By  pressing  upon  the  butt  end  of  the  key, 
its  metal  surface  comes  in  contact  with  the 
metal  termination  of  the  wire  from  the 
battery,  and  then  the  circuit  is  closed,  and 
the  electric  fluid  fleets  along  to  the  distant 
station. 

In  connection  with  the  register,  there 
is,  as  has  already  been  stated,  a  strip  or 
ribbon  of  paper  passing  from  the  roll 
between  two  small  metal  rollers  of  the 
register.  This  strip  is  drawn  through 
between  the  rollers  by  their  motion,  the}' 
revolving  towards  the  paper  roll,  drawing 
in  the  paper, — motion  being  given  to  these 
rollers  by  a  train  of  clock-work  gear  wheels, 
moved  by  the  weight  below  the  machine. 
The  upper  small  roll  has  a  small  groove  run 
ning  around  its  periphery,  and  the  ribbon 
of  paper  is  drawn  through  against  its 
under  surface.  The  instrument  for  in 
denting  the  paper  is  suspended  on  a 
pivot  axis  at  its  middle,  and  its  action  is 
like  a  walking-beam,  though  the  stroke 
made  is  very  short.  This  pen-lever  is 
very  nicely  poised,  and  at  its  extreme  end 
from  the  paper  its  stroke  is  neatly  regu 
lated  by  a  set  or  button  screw.  The  metal 
pen  is  attached  to  the  lever  and  fixed  on  a 
pivot  like  a  walking-beam.  When  one 
end  is  drawn  down,  the  other  end  flies  up, 
and,  having  a  steel  point  on  it,  it  marks 
the  strip  of  paper,  already  described  as 
running  along  a  roller,  and  which  is  drawn 
along  between  other  two  rollers.  Then, 
by  letting  the  other  end  of  this  pen 
come  up,  the  steel  point  drops,  and 
then  it  is  thrown  up  again,  leaving  a  space 
between  the  two  marks  on  the  paper.  As, 
therefore,  the  paper  is  always  moving  and, 
as  the  point  is  held  to  it  for  a  longer  or 
shorter  time,  marks  are  made — as  before 


348 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


explained — of  dots,  spaces  and  dashes,  and 
by  a  combination  of  these  the  whole 
alphabet  is  formed,  the  letters  made  into 
words,  and  the  words  into  sentences.  The 
electro-magnet  is  fitted  with  an  armature, 
whose  attraction  and  withdrawal  gives 
motion  to  the  lever.  Instead  of  reading 
off  from  the  strip  of  paper,  operators  in 
time  trusted  to  sound. 

But,  though  Professor  Morse  exhibited 
the  model  of  his  recording  apparatus  in 
1835  and  1836,  it  was  not  until  after  some 
years'  additional  toil  that  he  brought  it  to 
the  above-described  efficiency  and  its  sub 
sequent  improvement  and  perfection.  He 
made  no  efforts  to  bring  the  matter 
definitely  before  the  public  until  the 
autumn  of  1837,  when,  in  its  advanced 
state  of  completion,  he  exhibited  to  an 
appreciating  and  wonder-struck  auditory, 
its  marvelous  operation.  The  announce 
ment  of  the  invention  and  its  astonishing 
capacity,  was  for  a  long  time  the  moct 
prominent  theme  of  public  and  private 
discussion,  admiration  being  largely  min 
gled  with  blank  incredulity,  and  not  a  little 
ridicule.  Even  in  congress,  on  the  appli 
cation  of  Professor  Morse  for  government 
aid,  to  enable  him  to  demonstrate  the  value 
of  his  invention  by  constructing  a  line 
between  Washington  and  Baltimore,  in 
1838,  there  were  not  found  wanting  learned 
legislators  who  treated  the  idea  as  a  mere 
chimera.  It  was  the  same  congress  of 
which  Espy,  the  "  Storm  King,"  was 
asking  assistance,  to  test  his  favorite 
theor}',  then  so  prominently  discussed. 

Both  Morse  and  Espy,  says  a  writer  of 
that  time  and  the  event,  became  the  butt 
of  ridicule,  the  target  of  merciless 
arrows  of  wit.  They  were  voted  down 
right  bores,  and  the  idea  of  giving  them 
money  was  pronounced  farcical.  They 
were  considered  monomaniacs,  and  as  such 
were  laughed  at,  punned  upon,  and  made 
the  standing  staple  for  jokes.  One  morn 
ing,  however,  a  gentleman  rose  from  his 
seat  in  the  house — quite  to  the  astonish 
ment  of  everybody,  for  he  had  never  been 
known  to  speak  before,  unless  it  was  to 
vote  or  to  address  the  speaker, — and  said, 


"I  hold  in  my  hand  a  resolution,  which  I 
respectfully  offer  for  the  consideration  of 
the  house."  In  a  moment  a  page  was  at 
his  desk,  and  the  resolution  was  trans 
ferred  to  the  speaker  and  by  him  delivered 
to  the  clerk,  who  read  as  follows : 
"  Resolved,  That  the  committee  of  ways 
and  means  be  instructed  to  inquire  into 
the  expediency  of  appropriating  $30,000, 
to  enable  Professor  Morse  to  establish  a 
line  of  telegraph  between  Washington  and 
Baltimore."  The  gentleman  who  offered 
it  was  Mr.  Ferris,  one  of  the  New  York 
representatives,  a  man  of  wealth  and 
learning,  but  modest,  retiring,  and  diffi 
dent. 

This  being  merely  a  resolution  of 
inquiry,  it  passed  without  opposition,  and, 
out  of  regard  to  the  mover,  without  com 
ment.  In  time,  it  came  before  the  com 
mittee,  all  the  members  of  which  had,  by 
their  public  services  and  brilliant  talents, 
acquired  a  national  reputation.  The  clerk 
of  the  committee  read  the  resolution. 
The  chairman,  Mr.  Fillmore,  in  a  clear, 
distinct  voice,  said,  "  Gentlemen,  what 
disposition  shall  be  made  of  it  ?  "  There 
was  a  dead  pause  around  the  table.  No 
one  seemed  inclined  to  take  the  initiative. 
It  was  expected  that,  inasmuch  as  the 
mover  of  the  resolution  in  the  house  was  a 
democrat,  the  democratic  side  of  the  com 
mittee  would  stand  god-father  to  it  there. 
But  not  a  bit  of  it.  They  felt  that  the 
whole  thing  was  preposterous  and  deserv 
ing  of  no  countenance.  At  length,  one  on 
the  other  side  broke  the  ominous  silence 
by  moving  that  the  committee  instruct 
the  chairman  to  report  a  bill  to  the  house, 
appropriating  thirty  thousand  dollars  for 
the  purpose  named  in  the  resolution. 

This  movement  "brought  them  all  up 
standing!"  No  speeches  were  made. 
The  question  was  called  for.  The  yeas 
and  nays  were  taken  alphabetically,  and, 
as  four  had  voted  on  the  affirmative  side, 
and  four  on  the  negative,  it  fell  to  the  lot 
of  Governor  Wallace,  of  Indiana,  whose 
name  came  last  on  the  list,  to  decide  the 
question.  He,  however,  had  paid  no  atten 
tion  to  the  matter,  and,  like  the  majority  of 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


349 


people,  considered  it  a  great  humbug.  He 
had  not  the  faintest  idea  of  the  importance 
to  his  country,  of  the  vote  he  was  to  cast. 
But  as  fortune  would  have  it,  the  thought 
came  to  mind  that  Mr.  Morse  was  even 
then  experimenting  in  the  capitol  with  the 
"  new-fangled  invention,"  having  stretched 
a  wire  from  the  basement  story  to  the 
ante-room  of  the  senate  chamber.  It  was 
therefore  in  Governor  Wallace's  power  to 
satisfy  himself  at  once  in  regard  to  the 
question  of  feasibility,  and  he  determined 
to  try  it.  He  asked  leave  to  consider  his 
vote.  This  was  granted.  He  imme 
diately  stepped  out  of  the  committee  room, 
and  went  to  the  ante-chamber,  which  was 
found  crowded  with  representatives  and 
strangers.  Governor  Wallace  requested 
permission  to  put  a  question  to  the  "  mad 
man  "  (Morse)  at  the  other  end  of  the 
wire.  It  was  granted  immediately.  He 


wrote  the  question  and  handed  it  to  the 
telegrapher.  The  crowd  cried  "read! 
read!  "  In  a  very  short  time  the  answer 
was  received.  When  written  out  by  the 
operator,  the  same  cry  of  "  read  it  !  read 
it  !  "  went  up  from  the  crowd. 

To   his   utter   astonishment,    Governor 
Wallace  found  that  the  madman  at  that  end 


of  the  wire  had  more  wit  and  force  than  the 
congressmen  at  the  other — the  laugh  was 
turned  completely  upon  the  committee-man. 
But,  as  western  men  are  rarely  satisfied 
with  one  fall — not  less  than  two  failures 
out  of  three  attempts  forcing  from  them 
any  acknowledgment  of  defeat,  —  the 
governor  put  a  second  question,  and  there 
came  a  second  answer.  If  the  first  raised 
a  laugh  at  his  expense,  the  second  convert 
ed  that  laugh  into  a  roar  and  a  shout. 
He  was  more  than  satisfied.  Picking  up 
his  hat,  he  bowed  himself  out  of  the 
crowd,  the  good-natured  shout  following 
him  as  he  passed  along  the  passages  and 
halls  of  the  capitol. 

As  a  matter  of  course,  Governor  Wallace 
voted  in  the  affirmative  of  the  motion  then 
pending  before  the  committee,  and  it 
prevailed.  The  chairman  reported  the 
bill,  the  house  and  senate  concurred  in  its 
passage,  and  thus  was  Professor  Morse 
successful  in  this  his  last  struggle  to 
demonstrate  the  practicability  of — as 
it  has  proved — the  most  amazing  in 
vention  of  the  age,  the  electro-mag 
netic  telegraph.  If  the  committee  had 
ignored  the  proposition,  there  is  no 
telling  what  would  have  been  the  result. 
That  the  experiment  would  have  been 
finally  made,  no  one  can  entertain  a 
doubt.  But  when  or  by  whom  is  the 
question.  It  was  not  within  the  range 
of  ordinary  individual  fortune  to  make 
it,  and,  if  it  was,  none  but  Professor 
Morse  would  have  hazarded  it. 

It  appears,  however,  that  Professor 
Morse  came  to  the  last  stage  of  discour 
agement,  in  the  prosecution  of  his  appeal 
to  congress,  before  light  finally  broke 
in  upon  him.  On  the  very  last  day  of 
the  session,  the  bill  relating  to  his 
case  was  the  one  hundred  and  twenti 
eth  on  the  senate  docket,  to  be  acted  upon 
in  course.  Concerning  this  scene,  a 
writer  in  Harper's  Monthly  states,  that 
during  the  entire  day  Professor  Morse 
watched  the  course  of  legislation  from  the 
gallery  with  nervous  trepidation  and  the 
deepest  anxiety.  At  length,  worn  out 
by  the  interminable  discussion  of  some 


350 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


senator  who  seemed  to  be  speaking 
against  time,  and  overcome  by  his 
prolonged  watching,  he  left  the  gallery  at 
a  late  hour  and  went  to  his  lodgings, 
under  the  belief  that  it  was  not  possible 
his  bill  could  be  reached,  and  that  he  must 
again  turn  his  attention  to  those  labors  of 
the  brush  and  easel  by  means  of  which  he 
might  be  enabled  to  prosecute  appeals  to 
congress  at  a  future  time.  He  accordingly 
made  his  preparations  to  return  to  New 
York  on  the  following  morning,  and 
retiring  to  rest,  sank  into  a  profound 
slumber,  from  which  he  did  not  awake 
until  a  late  hour  on  the  following  morn 
ing.  But  a  short  time  after,  while  seated 
at  the  breakfast-table,  the  servant  an 
nounced  that  a  lady  desired  to  see  him. 
Upon  entering  the  parlor,  he  found  Miss 
Annie  Ellsworth,  the  daughter  of  the 
Commissioner  of  Patents,  whose  face  was 
all  aglow  with  pleasure. 

"  1  have  come  to  congratulate  yon,"  she 
remarked,  as  he  entered  the  room,  and 
approached  to  shake  hands  with  her. 

"To  congratulate  me!"  replied  Mr. 
Morse,  "and  for  what?" 

"  Why,  upon  the  passage  of  your  bill, 
to  be  sure,"  she  replied. 

"  You  must  surely  be  mistaken  ;  for  I 
left  at  a  late  hour,  and  its  fate  seemed 
inevitable." 

"Indeed  I  am  not  mistaken,"  she  re 
joined;  "father  remained  until  the  close 
of  the  session,  and  your  bill  was  the  very 
last  that  was  acted  on,  and  I  begged 
permission  to  convey  to  you  the  news. 
I  am  so  happy  that  I  am  the  first  to  tell 
you." 

The  feelings  of  Professor  Morse  may  be 
better  imagined  than  described.  He 
grasped  his  young  companion  warmly  by 
the  hand,  and  thanked  her  over  and  over 
again  for  the  joyful  intelligence,  saying — 

"As  a  reward  for  being  the  first  bearer 
of  this  news,  you  shall  send  over  the  tele 
graph  the  first  message  it  conveys." 

"I  will  hold  you  to  that  promise," 
replied  she ;  "  Remember!  " 

"  Remember !  "  responded  Professor 
Morse  ;  and  they  parted. 


The  plans  of  Mr.  Morse  were  now  alto 
gether  changed.  His  journey  homeward 
was  abandoned,  and  he  set  to  work  to  carry 
out  the  project  of  establishing  the  line  of 
electro-telegraph,  between  Washington  and 
Baltimore,  authorized  by  the  bill.  His 
first  idea  was  to  convey  the  wires,  inclosed 
in  a  leaden  tube,  beneath  the  ground,  ile 
had  already  arranged  a  plan  by  which  the 
wires,  insulated  by  a  covering  of  cotton 
saturated  in  gum  shellac,  were  to  be 
inserted  into  leaden  pipes  in  the  process 
of  casting.  But  after  the  expenditure  of 
several  thousand  dollars,  and  much  delay 
this  plan  was  given  up,  and  the  one  now 
in  use,  of  extending  them  on  poles, 
adopted. 

By  the  month  of  May,  18-44,  the  whole 
line  was  laid,  and  magnets  and  recording 
instruments  were  attached  to  the  ends  of 
the  wires  at  Mount  Clare  Depot,  Balti 
more,  and  at  the  supreme  court  chamber, 
in  the  capitol  at  Washington.  When  the 
circuit  was  complete,  and  the  signal  at  the 
one  end  of  the  line  was  responded  to  by 
the  operator  at  the  other,  Mr.  Morse  sent 
a  messenger  to  Miss  Ellsworth  to  inform 
her  that  the  telegraph  awaited  her  mes 
sage.  She  speedily  responded  to  this,  and 
sent  for  transmission  the  following,  which 
was  the  first  formal  dispatch  ever  sent 
through  a  telegraphic  wire  connecting 
remote  places  with  each  other : 

"  WHAT  HATH  GOD  WKOUGHT  !  " 

The  original  of  the  message  is  now  in 
the  archives  of  the  Historical  Society  at 
Hartford,  Connecticut.  The  practicability 
and  utility  of  the  invention  were  now 
clearly  and  firmly  established. 

Of  the  subsequent  history  and  triumphs 
of  this  invention,  it  is  scarcely  necessary 
here  to  speak.  The  lines  of  telegraphic 
communication  which  now,  like  a  web, 
traverse  the  length  and  breadth  of  the 
republic,  and  which,  indeed,  connect  and 
cover  as  with  a  net-work  the  four  conti 
nents  of  the  globe, — these  attest  the  vast- 
ness,  influence  and  power,  of  this  amazing 
invention.  Nor  is  it  necessary  to  specify 
the  details  of  those  various  mechanical 
improvements  in  the  construction  and 


GKEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


351 


working  of  the  apparatus,  as  also  its  diver 
sified  adaptation,  brought  forward  by  the 
fertile  genius  of  Morse,  as  well  as  by 
House,  Hughes,  Phelps,  Shaffner,  O'Reilly, 
Vail,  Farmer,  Page,  Hicks,  Ritchie,  etc., 
and  which  have  secured  to  the  whole  system 
of  telegraphy  its  present  wonderful  degree 
of  scientific  perfection,  bringing  to  the 
discoverer  fame  and  pecuniary  fortune  at 
home,  and  also  the  most  splendid  medals, 
decorations  of  honor,  and  "  golden  gifts," 
from  nearly  all  the  crowned  heads  of 
Europe.  It  is  an  interesting  fact,  that  the 
first  kingly  acknowledgment  received  by 
Professor  Morse,  was  the  "Order  of 
Glory"  from  the  Sultan  of  Turkey.  The 
rulers  of  Prussia,  Wurtemberg,  and  Aus 
tria,  sent  him  superb  gold  medals ;  the 
ernperor  of  the  French  made  him  a  Cheva 
lier  of  the  Legion  of  Honor,  instituted  by 
Napoleon  the  First;  while  Denmark  made 
him  one  of  the  knightly  "Dannebrog," 
and  Spain  a  Knight  Commander  of  the 
Order  of  Isabella  the  Catholic. 


powerful  an  enemy  Abd-el-Kader  proved 
himself  to  the  French,  during  the  career 
of  conquest  undertaken  by  the  latter  in 
Algeria.  On  a  certain  occasion,  during 
that  terrific  struggle,  the  French  telegraph 
made  the  announcement :  "  Abd-el-Kader 

has  been  taken ;"  a  fog,  however, 

enveloped  the  remainder  of  the  sentence 
in  obscurity.  The  excitement,  neverthe 
less,  in  the  money  market,  was  at  fever 
height,  at  the  supposed  capture  of  that 
adroit  enemy,  and  the  funds  rose  tremen 
dously.  The  following  day,  the  sentence 
being  completed,  the  intelligence  ran  thus: 
"Abd-el-Kader  has  been  taken  with  a 
dreadful  cold  in  his  head."  The  funds 
fell,  but  the  coup — which  was  worthy  of  a 
Rothschild's  subtlety  —  had  been  suffi 
ciently  successful  for  those  who  managed 
to  make  the  telegraph  play  into  the  hands 
of  their  financial  agents. 

A  case  of  a  somewhat  different  character 
— one  involving  the  "tender  passion" — 
was  the  following.  A  daughter  of  one  of 


ORDERS  OF  GLORY  CONFERRED  ON  PROFESSOR  MORSE. 


An  example  or  two  of  the  humorous 
side  of  the  telegraph  may  here  be  given, 
as  a  kind  of  side-relief  to  a  subject 
liable  to  be  regarded  as  somewhat  exclu 
sively  involving  abstract  philosophical 
science  and  the  technical  minutiae  of  its 
application. 

Probably   no   one   is    ignorant   of   how 


the  wealthiest  merchants  in  Boston,  Mass., 
had  formed  an  attachment  for  a  handsome 
young  man,  who  was  a  clerk  in  her  father's 
counting-house.  The  father  having  heard 
of  the  attachment,  feigned  ignorance  of  it, 
with  a  view  of  enabling  him  more  success 
fully  to  adopt  measures  that  would  break 
it  off.  For  this  purpose  he  directed  the 


352 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


young  man  to  proceed  to  England,  upon 
business ;  and  the  lover  accordingly  ar 
rived,  on  his  route,  in  New  York.  In  the 
meantime,  the  enamored  young  lady  had 
got  an  inkling  of  her  father's  intentions, 
and  wishing  to  frustrate  them  effectually, 
sent  a  message  to  that  effect  to  her  lover 
in  New  York,  by  the  following  expedient: 
She  took  her  place  in  the  telegraph  office 
in  Boston,  and  he  did  the  same  with  a 
magistrate,  in  the  New  York  office;  and 
now,  the  exchange  of  consent  being  duly 
given  by  the  electric  flash,  they  were  mar 
ried  by  telegraph !  Shortly  after,  the 
lady's  father  insisted  upon  her  marriage 
with  the  gentleman  he  had  selected  for 
her;  and  judge  of  his  amazement  when 
she  told  him  that  she  was  already  married 
— the  wife  of  Mr.  B.,  then  on  his  way  to 
England ;  adding  an  explanation  of  the 
novel  way  in  which  the  ceremony  was  per 
formed.  And  so  the  matter  ended  ;  adding 
another  to  the  triumphs  of  love  and — 
electricity ! 

During  the  revolutionary  excitement  in 
Europe,  in  1848,  the  astounding  report 
flashed  across  Europe,  that  the  king  of 
Prussia  had  abdicated !  The  statement 
originated  with  the  electric  telegraph, 
which  sent  the  following  dispatch:  "The 
— King  of — Prussia — has — yone  to  Pot — ." 
In  another  minute,  the  communication  in 
this  form  was  on  its  way  to  the  news 
paper  bulletins,  and  was  immediately  tele 
graphed  thence  in  every  direction.  Not 
long  after,  however,  the  dial  was  again 
agitated,  and  then  "s — dam"  was  added; 
making  the  very  quiet  piece  of  news, 


"  The  King  of  Prussia  has  gone  to  Pots 
dam." 

In  the  early  days  of  telegraphing,  the 
competition  for  priority  among  the  lead 
ing  journals  was  very  great,  and  feats  were 
performed  which,  for  that  day  of  the  art's 
infancy,  were  indeed  marvelous.  One 
instance  will  suffice : 

An  important  speech  by  Mr.  Clay  was 
much  looked  for.  It  was  delivered  in 
Lexington,  Ky.,  on  a  Saturday,  and  the 
proprietor  of  the  New  York  Herald  deter 
mined  on  beating  his  contemporaries. 
Express  riders  were  ready,  and  in  less 
than  five  hours  a  full  report  of  the  speech 
was  in  Cincinnati.  Notifications  had  been 
sent  along  the  line  of  telegraph  to  "look 
out;"  and  at  four  o'clock  on  Sunday 
morning,  the  publisher  of  the  Herald  had 
the  speech  before  him  in  New  York — the 
distance  being  more  than  eleven  hundred 
miles.  This  was  done  during  a  heavy  rain, 
and  while  a  thunder  shower  was  passing 
over  a  portion  of  both  the  eastern  and 
western  lines.  At  Cincinnati,  where  it 
was  to  be  copied  in  passing,  the  telegraph 
suddenly  ceased  working,  to  the  dismay  of 
the  superintendent.  Being  short  of  proper 
hands,  he  mounted  a  horse,  and  followed 
the  line,  through  the  pelting  storm,  until 
he  found  a  break,  caused  by  the  falling  of 
a  tree,  beyond  Turtle  Creek,  a  distance  of 
twenty-one  miles.  He  finished  mending 
the  break  at  dark,  and  then  returned  to 
the  city,  where,  in  the  temporary  absence 
of  other  competent  operators,  received  the 
speech  and  sent  it  to  New  York,  finishing 
it  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning. 


XXXIX. 

TREMENDOUS   FIRE   IN   NEW  YORK  CITY.— 1835. 


Its  Destructiveness  Unparalleled,  up  to  this  Period,  in  the  Western  World. — Resistless  Devastation  for 
Sixteen  Hours  in  Midwinter. — A  Pall  of  Ruin  and  Desolation  Over  the  Richest  Business  Locality 
in  America. — Nearly  Seven  Hundred  Warehouses,  Filled  with  Costly  Merchandise,  and  the  Com 
merce  of  Every  Clime,  Laid  in  Ashes. — Loss  Upwards  of  Eighteen  Millions. — Peculiar  Seat  of  this 
Fire. — The  Money  Center  of  America. — Breaking  Out  in  the  Evening — Fury  of  the  North  Wind  — 
The  Flames  Spread  Violently. — Bitter  and  Intense  Cold. — Freezing  of  the  Engine- Water. — All  the 
Elements  Hostile. — Human  Endeavors  Powerless — Acres  on  Fire  at  Midnight. — Sweeps  from  Point 
to  Point. — Mingled  Horror  and  Sublimity. — Efforts  to  Save  the  Exchange. — Fate  of  that  Splendid 
Pile. — Fall  of  its  Magnificent  Dome. — Numberless  Reverses  of  Fortune — Rich  Men  Made  Penni 
less. — A  Singular  Exception. — Swarms  of  Bold  Robbers. — Military  Protection  Required. — Discovery 
of  a  Diabolical  Crime. — Supposed  Cause  of  the  Fire. 


"  Only  the  horron  of  the  er««t  fire  of  London  in  1COB.  and  of  Moscow  in  1812,  can  be  laid  to  riral  those  of  the  night  of  December  16. 
1*33,  in  the  commercial  metropolis  of  Americ*."— llisrour  or  titw  YORK. 


[ODERN  history  affords  but  few  instances  of  more  awful  desolation  by 
fire,  than  that  which  so  suddenly  visited  the  city  of  New  York,  on  the 
sixteenth  and  seventeenth  of  December,  1835.  Indeed,  there  are  not 
many  examples  of  any  calamities  affecting  property  and  business 
interests,  showing  greater  destruction  or  involving  consequences 
more  distressing.  The  consuming  of  nearly  seven  hundred  spacious  storehouses  of 
the  first  class,  filled  with  the  most  valuable  goods  of  all  kinds  and  from  all  countries, 
covering  about  twenty  acres  of  land,  and  giving  emplo}uiient  in  various  connections 
to  several  thousand  persons,  was  an  unprecedented  event,  in  the  roll  of  national 
disasters.  It  was  not,  however,  upon  the  individuals  directly  employed,  nor  upon  the 
owners  or  occupants  of  the  buildings  consumed,  nor  even  upon  the  merchants,  that 
the  chief  burden  of  this  appalling  calamity  fell ;  but  it  was  the  thousands  of  widows 
and  orphans  who  were  dependent  upon  the  dividends  of  their  little  stock  in  the  insur 
ance  companies  for  their  daily  bread,  who  were  most  afflicted  by  this  unpitying  devas 
tation  ;  and  next  to  them,  the  artisan  and  manufacturer,  in  almost  every  district  of  the 
United  States,  however  remote,  was  irretrievably  involved.  Indeed,  every  species  of 
business  and  every  ramification  of  trade,  throughout  the  Union,  was  seriously  affected. 
It  was  the  fountain-head  that  had  been  so  dreadfully  ravaged,  and  the  whole  nation  felt 
the  shock.  Other  fires  there  have  been,  most  disastrous  in  their  extent, — at  Savannah, 
San  Francisco,  Sacramento,  Pittsburg,  Portland,  Albany,  St.  Louis,  Charleston,  etc., 
— but  this  is  conceded  to  have  been,  up  to  that  time,  the  most  fearfully  memorable,  of 
the  century,  and,  therefore,  appropriately  narrated  in  this  volume.  For  terrible 
23 


354 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


destruction  of  life,  also,  numbering  some 
seventy  victims,  including  Hon.  George 
W.  Smith,  governor  of  the  state,  the 
burning  of  the  theater  in  Richmond,  Va., 
December  24, 1811,  will  forever  be  remem 
bered. 

At  nine  o'clock,  on  the  night  of  Wednes 
day,  December  sixteenth,  smoke  and  flames 
were  seen  to  issue  from  a  five-story  build 
ing  in  Merchant  street,  formerly  Hanover 
street,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Merchants' 
Exchange,  and  in  precisely  that  locality 
of  the  metropolis  which  was  crowded  with 
the  most  costly  treasures  of  foreign  and 
domestic  production.  The  weather  had 
been  unusually  severe  for  several  days  ; 
but  on  the  night  in  question,  the  cold  had 
increased  to  an  intensity  almost  without 
precedent,  the  thermometer  standing  be 
low  zero,  with  fierce  north  winds,  amount 
ing  nearly  to  a  gale.  It  was  an  awful 
night  for  New  York  and  the  country. 

The  flames  soon  leaped  forth  in  fury 
through  every  aperture,  and  seized  on 
the  adjoining  buildings  for  their  im 
mediate  prey,  and,  spreading  from  this 
point,  the  raging  element  in  a  short  time 
obtained  a  tremendous  advantage  in  the 
most  compactly  and  loftily  built  portion 
of  the  city,  filled  with  silks,  cloths,  liquors, 
oils,  chemicals,  and  other  combustibles, 
and  intersected  only  by  narrow  streets 
which  could  interpose  no  barrier  to  the 
progress  of  the  flames. 

Owing  to  the  unparalleled  severity  of 
the  weather,  and  to  the  fact  that  there  had 
been  so  many  alarms  within  the  week, 
requiring  so  large  an  amount  of  harassing 
service  of  the  fire  department,  the  latter 
did  not  rally  with  its  accustomed  alacrity. 
It  was  soon  found,  too,  that  the  effort  put 
forth  to  check  the  power  of  the  conflagra 
tion  in  that  quarter  to  which  the  wind  was 
so  vehemently  urging  it,  was  utterly  una 
vailing.  The  water  so  plenteously  thrown 
upon  it  by  hydrants  and  engines,  was 
blown  back  in  the  faces,  and  fell  con 
gealed  at  the  feet  of  the  brave  firemen,  or 
seemed  only  to  add  to  the  fury  and  force 
of  the  destroyer,  which  rapidly  embraced 
the  great  range  of  houses  on  the  opposite 


side,  until  the  whole  triangular  block, 
formed  by  Wall,  William,  and  iVarl 
streets,  became  one  lofty  altar  of  waving 
fires.  From  this  point,  taking  the  direc 
tion  of  Wall  street  below  Pearl,  on  the 
one  hand,  and  Pearl  street  below  Wall, 
on  the  other,  the  flames  rolled  on,  mocking 
all  human  endeavors  to  restrain  them. 

Advancing  thus  in  two  grand  divisions, 
the  conflagration,  as  contrasted  with  the 
red  masses  of  buildings  which  they  alter 
nately  illuminated  with  glaring  brightness 
and  wrapped  in  huge  volumes  of  smoke, 
conveyed  to  the  beholder  the  idea  of  some 
fabulous  monster  of  destruction,  waving 
its  wings  over  its  helpless  and  devoted 
prey. 

The  extraordinary  strength  of  the  Wall 
street  buildings — many  of  them  resisting 
firmly  the  assaults  of  the  destroyer,  and 
none  of  the  walls  crumbling  and  falling 
into  the  street,  as  is  so  generally  the  case 
— did  more  for  the  security  of  those  north 
of  the  street,  than  anything  within  the 
power  of  human  effort.  Onward,  how 
ever,  still  onward,  continued  the  resistless 
sweep  of  destruction,  involving  some  of 
the  most  massive  blocks  of  warehouses  in 
the  world,  crammed  with  the  costliest  of 
goods  from  every  section  and  clime. 

After  consuming  the  Phcenix  buildings 
on  Wall  street,  the  fire  pursued  its 
way  to  Water  street,  Front  street,  and 
at  length,  as  the  morning  dawned, 
to  South  street,  adjoining  the  East 
river.  But  progressing  at  the  same 
time,  through  Pearl  street,  on  both  sides, 
towards  Hanover  square,  it  crossed  and 
speedily  devoured  Governeur  lane,  Jones's 
lane,  and  the  whole  of  Front  and  Water 
streets  that  lay  between  Wall  street  and 
Franklin  market.  In  the  meantime,  it 
was  furiously  extending  through  Exchange 
street  and  Exchange  place  to  William 
street,  and  to  all  the  buildings  in  the  rear 
of  the  Merchants'  Exchange. 

This  magnificent  and  beautiful  edifice, 
which,  for  the  elegant  grandeur  of  its  ar 
chitecture,  was  the  pride  not  only  of 
New  York  but  of  the  whole  country,  it 
was  hoped  would  continue  to  rear  its  dome 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


355 


VIEW  OF  "WALL  STREET   DURING  THE  FIKE. 


in  the  sky,  tliough  all  around  it  should 
become  a  scene  of  desolation — for,  there 
being  no  flames  between  it  and  the  course 
of  the  wind,  it  seemed  fortunately  secure 
from  any  imminent  danger.  And  so  much 
confidence  was  reposed  in  this  presumption, 
that  the  building  was  selected  as  the  grand 
depot  for  the  most  precious  kinds  of  mer 
chandise  that  could  be  rescued  from  the 
adjacent  streets,  and  with  which  its  great 
hall  was  completely  piled.  Every  pre 
caution,  too,  was  taken  to  preserve  it,  by 
conveying  hose  to  its  roof,  and  by  spread 
ing  wet  blankets  along  those  parts  of  the 
windows  and  cornices  most  exposed  to  the 
heat.  But  all  proved  vain  !  At  about  one 
o'clock  in  the  morning  the  splendid  edifice 
took  fire,  and  although  the  flames  preyed 
upon  it  but  slowly  for  some  time,  they  at 
length  burst  forth  from  its  roof  and  dome, 
and  weaved  a  pall  of  ruin  over  its  vast  and 
beautiful  form.  For  full  half  an  hour,  the 
flames  arose  in  pyramidal  columns,  from 
its  dome,  up  to  an  immense  height  in  the 
troubled  sky,  and  rendered  it  a  most  sub 
lime  though  fearful  object.  But  before 


the  unhappy  persons  who  had  made  it  a 
refuge  for  their  property  from  the  terrible 
enemy  that  was  abroad,  could  again  rescue 
scarcely  an  article,  the  dome  fell  in  with  a 
portentous  crash,  burying  beneath  its 
ruined  arches  the  new  and  beautiful  statue 
of  the  illustrious  Hamilton.  A  gallant  effort 
was  made  to  save  this  statue,  by  a  young 
officer  from  the  navy  yard,  with  a  party  of 
four  or  five  sailors;  they  had  actually 
succeeded  in  removing  it  from  the  pedestal, 
when  the  danger  from  the  approaching 
fall  of  the  roof, — watched  with  breathless 
anxiety  by  the  terror-stricken  multitude — 
compelled  them  to  seek  safety  in  flight. 

At  this  time,  the  fire  on  Pearl  street  had 
reached  Hanover  square,  which  large  space 
of  ground  was  covered  with  goods.  A 
desperate  struggle  was  made  to  save  them, 
but  so  rapidly  did  the  fire  spread  on  both 
sides  of  the  square,  that,  in  a  short  time, 
everything  was  reduced  to  cinders.  Of 
the  South  Dutch  church,  which  had  also 
been  stored  with  valuables,  nothing  -was 
left  but  the  bare  walls.  The  post-office 
shared  the  same  desolation. 


35G 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


To  check  the  augmenting  avalanche  of 
fire,  when  water  could  not  be  thrown  upon 
it  or  seemed  of  no  avail  if  it  was,  gun 
powder  was  at  last  resorted  to;  but  none, 
in  sufficient  quantities  was  to  be  procured 
in  the  city,  it  not  being  allowed  as  an 
article  of  merchandise.  An  application  ut 
the  fort  on  Governor's  Island  was  unsuc 
cessful;  but  a  supply  was  ultimately  pro 
cured,  after  daylight,  from  the  Brooklyn 
navy  yard,  with  a  corps  of  marines,  and 
the  demolition  of  some  prominent  build 
ings  by  this  means,  contributed  materially 
to  the  subjugation  of  the  flames,  which 
was  finally  effected  at  Coenties  slip,  about 
noon  of  Thursday,  after  an  awful  and 
uninterrupted  devastation  of  sixteen  hours. 

Thus,  seventeen  of  the  most  valuable 
'blocks' in  the  money  and  business  part 
of  the  city  were  totally  destroyed,  and 
three  others  nearly  so.  The  total  loss,  as 
given  in  the  New  American  Cyclopedia, 
was  more  than  eiy/tteen  million  dollars  ! 
Six  hundred  and  seventy  buildings  were 
burnt,  principally  occupied  as  importing 
and  wholesale  warehouses, — the  seat,  in 
deed,  of  the  greatest  monetary  and  com 
mercial  transactions  on  the  American  con 
tinent.  It  is  not  likely  that  the  destruc 
tion  of  any  given  section  of  any  other  city 
in  the  world,  of  equal  extent,  would  have 
involved  a  greater  loss  of  capital,  or  ruined 
the  fortunes  of  a  larger  number  of  men. 
The  south  side  of  Wall  street  was  half 
destroyed.  William,  Pearl,  Water,  Front 
and  South  streets,  from  Wall  street  to 
Coenties  slip,  were  in  ruins.  Exchange 
place,  Hanover  street,  Merchant  street, 
and  Hanover  square,  were  entirely  de 
stroyed  ;  Stone  street,  from  Pearl  to  Broail 
street,  nearly  so.  Some  of  the  buildings 
on  Broad  street  suffered ;  but  throughout 
the  night  this  noble  avenue  was  univer 
sally  regarded  as  the  only  efficient  barrier 
against  the  entire  destruction  of  the  first 
ward,  involving  results  almost  incalculable, 
to  property  of  every  description. 

Before  the  gunpowder  was  used  in  blow 
ing  up  the  buildings,  there  were  constantly 
heard  loud  reports  caused  by  explosions 
of  casks  of  spirits,  chemicals,  and  other 


substances.  During  the  entire  night,  the 
scene  was  one  of  awful  terror  and  inde 
scribable  grandeur.  The  drought  of  the 
season  had  contributed  to  the  combusti 
bility  of  the  materials,  and  the  rapidity 
with  which  house  after  house,  range  after 
range  of  buildings,  was  wrapped  in  flames, 
was  frightful  to  the  beholder.  The  gale 
being  strong,  large  flakes  of  fire  were 
borne  whirling  aloft,  through  the  dark 
vault  of  heaven,  with  fearful  splendor. 

Among  the  noticeable  matters  of  curi 
osity,  observed  during  the  progress  of  the 
conflagration,  was  the  resistance  offered 
so  long  and  staunchly  to  the  flames,  by 
the  South  Dutch  church,  Rev.  Dr.  Mat- 
thews's,  but  which  finally  yielded  to  the 
all-conquering  foe.  The  bright  gold  ball 
and  star  surmounting  the  structure  — 
crowning  the  highest  point  of  the  spire — 
gleamed  brilliantly ;  and  thus,  while  the 
two  were  shining,  in  the  deep  blue  con 
cave,  with  an  intensity  of  brightness 
which  attracted  general  remark,  they  sud 
denly  gave  one  surge,  and  fell,  in  all  their 
glory,  into  the  chaotic  heap  beneath. 
Similar  was  the  fate  of  the  Hamilton 
statue,  which,  towering  brightly  amidst 
the  sea  of  flames  that  dashed  against  its 
crackling  base,  cast  a  mournful  glance  on 
the  terrific  scene,  and  then  fell  with  stately 
motion,  perishing  under  the  crush  of  the 
edifice  of  which  it  had  been,  as  it  were, 
the  tutelary  genius.  A  fine  old  syca 
more,  near  the  corner  of  Beaver  and  Wil 
liam  streets,  on  the  premises  formerly 
occupied  by  Cadwallader  D.  Colden,  vig 
orously  resisted  the  foe,  standing  un 
harmed  amid  the  ruins. 

At  the  head  of  one  of  the  slips,  a  novel 
spectacle  occurred.  A  large  quantity  of 
turpentine,  piled  up  in  barrels,  caught  the 
flames  and  burnt  with  great  fury,  on  ac 
count  of  its  peculiarly  inflammable  charac 
ter.  It  ran  clown  in  a  stream,  like  burn 
ing  lava,  into  the  dock,  upon  the  surface 
of  the  water,  and,  being  lighter  than  the 
latter,  spread  out  until  it  had  covered  a 
vast  extent,  giving  the  river  the  appear 
ance  of  one  rolling  mass  of  liquid  fire, 
startling  but  beautiful  to  behold. 


GKEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


Peculiarly  exciting  was  the  doom  which 
overtook  Hanover  square,  where  every 
body  thought  the  goods  deposited  would 
be  perfectly  safe.  In  this  great  area, 
there  was  accumulated  from  the  stock  of 
all  the  French  stores,  a  mass  of  silks, 
satins,  laces,  dresses  in  pattern,  capes, 
Cashmere  shawls,  and  the  richest  kinds  of 
fancy  articles,  forming  an  enormous  pile 
sixty  feet  wide  by  twenty-five  feet  in 
height,  or  nearly  one  hundred  feet  square. 
Suddenly,  and  to  the  apalling  consterna 
tion  of  the  anxious  throng,  a  gust  of  flame, 
like  a  streak  of  lightning,  came  from  the 
north-east  corner  building,  and  shooting 


and  happy,  were  the  next  day  bankrupts, 
utterly  ruined.  Stephen  Whitney's  loss, 
in  stores,  stock,  and  goods,  was  estimated 
at  nearly  half  a  million  dollars.  In  one 
of  the  stores  consumed,  were  eight  hun 
dred  thousand  pounds  of  lead ;  after  the 
fire  was  over,  and  the  rubbish  removed,  it 
was  found  that  the  lead  had  melted  into 
prodigious  masses,  so  that  the  owner  had 
to  quarry  it  out. 

The  great  dry  goods  firm  of  which 
Arthur  Tappan,  the  renowned  abolition 
leader,  was  at  the  head,  escaped,  peculiarly, 
the  absolute  ruin  in  which  so  many  of  the 
other  great  firms  were  involved.  Their 


THE  GREAT  COXFLAGRATIOX  AS  VIEWED  FROM  COEXTIES  SLIP. 


wildly  across  the  square,  blown  by  the 
strong  wind,  set  fire  to  the  entire  mass. 
No  human  effort  could  for  a  moment  suc 
cessfully  interpose,  and  in  a  few  moments 
the  whole  was  but  a  heap  of  cinders  and 
ashes. 

Some  of  the  individual  losses  were,  of 
course,  immense ;  as  an  example,  one  mer 
chant  had  in  silks  alone,  three  hundred 
thousand  dollars,  which  were  destroyed; 
another,  two  hundred  thousand  dollars  in 
teas  and  brandies.  Many  who  went  home 
to  their  families  that  evening,  prosperous 


store  being  of  stone,  and  having  window- 
shutters  of  thick  boiler  iron — put  on  after 
the  mobs  of  the  previous  year, — Avithstood 
the  flames  for  nearly  an  hour,  while  all 
was  in  a  blaze  around  it,  so  that  there  was 
thus  afforded  time  to  carry  out  the  books 
and  papers,  and  a  very  large  amount  of 
goods,  estimated  at  one  hundred  thousand 
dollars  in  value,  placing  them,  after  two 
removes,  beyond  the  spread  of  the  fire. 
The  energy  and  daring  with  which  the 
colored  people  pressed  forward,  in  the  face 
of  every  obstacle,  to  save  Mr.  Tappan's 


358 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-lS7f>. 


property,  greatly  impressed  the  bystanders. 
It  was  with  difficulty  they  were  restrained 
from  rushing  in,  after  the  flames  had 
burst  out  at  the  door.  In  addition  to  the 
value  of  what  they  thus  saved,  was  a  con 
siderable  insurance. 

As  usual,  those  miscreants  who  always 
avail  themselves  of  such  public  opportuni 
ties  to  exercise  their  skill  in  plundering, 
did  not  neglect  the  present  most  fruitful 
and  tempting  occasion.  The  extent  of 
their  depredations,  and  the  number  of  rob 
bers  who  committed  them,  were  commen 
surate  with  the  extent  and  character  of 
the  conflagration.  More  than  ninety  rob 
bers  were  taken  in  the  act  of  carrying 
away  property  during  the  night  of  the 
fire  ;  and  the  ensuing  day,  some  two  hun 
dred  more  were  arrested  for  having  in 
their  possession  property  which  was  stolen 
from  the  fire.  The  scenes  at  the  police 
office,  growing  out  of  these  criminal  prac 
tices,  were  of  a  kind  that  beggared  de 
scription, —  the  squalid  misery  of  the 
greater  part  of  those  who  were  arrested 
with  their  ill-gotten  spoils,  the  lies  and 
prevarications  to  which  they  resorted  to 
induce  the  magistrates  not  to  commit 
them  to  prison,  their  objurgations  and 
wailings  when  the}'  found  they  must  re 
linquish  the  splendid  prizes  they  had 
seized  during  the  raging  of  the  fire  and 
the  accompanying  excitement.  The  num 
bers  in  which  these  persons  were  brought 
up  for  examination,  by  the  police  and  mil 
itary,  exceeded  anything  of  a  similar  kind 
on  record.  For  three  days  and  nights, 
every  place  capable  of  affording  detention 
was  crammed  with  these  unhappy  culprits 
—  sometimes  as  many  as  one  hundred 
being  in  confinement  at  the  same 
moment.  Hundreds  were  discharged 
without  any  other  proceedings  than 
merely  taking  from  them  their  plunder; 
and,  indeed,  but  very  few  of  the  whole 
number,  even  those  who  had  pillaged  to  a 
very  large  amount,  could  be  convicted  in 
a  court  of  justice,  in  consequence  of  the 
impossibility  of  identifying,  by  the  neces 
sary  legal  proof  in  such  cases,  the  prop 
erty  stolen.  But  thus  it  was — the  night 


of  terror  was  made  a  carnival  of  lawless 
ness  and  crime  ! 

On  the  second  night  after  the  conflagra 
tion,  a  couple  of  gentlemen  observed  a 
stout  Irishwoman  walking  up  Pearl  street, 
near  the  corner  of  Wall  street,  with  what 
was  evidently  a  ponderous  bundle  under 
her  cloak.  When  she  saw  the  gentlemen 
observing  her,  she  immediately  commenced 
singing,  with  the  usual  maternal  tone 
and  accent,  'Hush-a-by,  bab}','  etc.  The 
gentlemen  thinking  that  the  poor  baby 
was  quite  worrisome,  offered  their  aid  to 
quiet  its  infant  restlessness.  '  Oh,  bless 
your  honors,  she's  asleep  now,'  was  the 
response.  The  gentlemen  still  persisted 
in  having  a  peep  at  the  blooming  little 
cherub.  She  resisted — but  manly  tender 
ness  could  not  be  overcome  thus.  On 
opening  the  cloak,  they  found  that  the 
dear  little  creature,  in  the  terror  of  the 
moment,  had  actually  changed  into  an 
armful  of  the  richest  silk  and  satin  goods, 
slightly  burnt  at  the  ends.  The  affection 
ate  mother  was  immediately  secured  and 
put  beyond  the  reach  of  any  similar 
maternal  trials. 

It  is  supposed  that  a  thousand  baskets 
of  champagne  were  broken  and  destroyed, 
the  tops  being  unceremoniously  knocked 
off,  and  the  contents  drank  up  by  the 
crowds  surrounding  the  iire  or  working. 
An  immense  quantity  of  baskets  of  cham 
pagne  were  to  be  seen  floating  in  the 
docks,  and  cheese  and  provisions  were  pro 
fusely  scattered  about.  Had  it  not  been 
for  the  civic  patrols  formed  in  several  of 
the  wards,  property  to  a  much  greater 
amount  would  have  been  pillaged.  The 
United  States  marines,  too,  in  a  large 
body,  under  official  command,  formed  a 
complete  chain  of  sentinels,  all  along 
South  street,  from  the  Fulton  ferry  to 
Wall  street,  and  up  Wall  to  the  Exchange ; 
they  kept  their  post,  with  bayonets  fixed, 
all  night,  and  proved  a  terror  to  the  hordes 
of  thieves  hovering  around.  Nevertheless, 
in  addition  to  the  inevitable  robberies 
after  the  ordinary  methods,  vast  quanti 
ties  of  merchandise  were  carried  off 
in  boats,  during  the  long  nights,  and 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


359 


secreted  on  the  Long  Island  and  Jersey 
shores. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  develop 
ments  of  crime,  in  the  midst  of  these 
scenes  of  terror  and  disaster,  was  the  case 
of  the  man  caught  in  the  act  of  setting 
fire  to  the  house  at  the  corner  of  Stone  and 
Broad  streets.  It  is  scarcely  possible  to 
conceive,  that  there  could  exist  such  a 
fiend  as  this  in  human  shape,  without  sup 
posing  him  to  be  either  a  maniac,  or  drunk 
with  liquor.  It  would  seem,  however,  to 
have  been  done  with  design — and  that  of 
the  most  diabolical  nature, — when  it  is 
considered  that  the  fearful  apprehensions 
of  the  whole  of  that  part  of  the  city  were 
directed  to  this  point,  lest  the  fire  would 
cross  it  and  reach  the  Battery. 

On  the  determination,  finally  arrived  at, 
to  check  the  onward  march  of  the  fire  by 
blowing  up  the  buildings  with  gunpowder, 
the  fate  of  the  city  was  believed  to  hang. 
The  material  with  which  to  carry  out  this 
plan  was,  as  already  observed,  obtained 
with  difficulty,  but  it  was  used  effectually 
when  once  secured.  Nothing  could  be 
more  characteristic  than  the  entire  sang 
froid  with  which  the  sailors  of  Captain 
Mix's  party  carried  about,  wrapped  up  in 
a  blanket,  or  a  pea-jacket,  as  it  might  hap 
pen,  kegs  and  barrels  of  gunpowder,  amid 
a  constant  shower  of  fire,  as  they  cour 
ageously  followed  their  officers  to  the 
various  buildings  indicated  for  destruction. 
Stung  with  the  cold,  the  hardy  fellows 
never  for  a  moment  quailed  in  the  per 
formance  of  their  duty.  So  inclement, 
indeed,  did  the  weather  continue,  that 
many  of  the  firemen  were  compelled  to 
take  the  fine  blankets  saved  from  the 
flames,  and,  cutting  a  hole  through  them, 
convert  them  into  temporary  cloaks ;  in 
this  attire  they  were  seen  the  ensuing  day, 
dragging  home  their  engines,  man}*  of  the 
poor  fellows  being  so  exhausted  b\r  fatigue 
and  bitten  by  the  cold,  that  they  were  well 
nigh  asleep  as  they  walked.  One  entire 
company,  thus  accoutered, — thinking  the 
best  way  of  dealing  with  their  troubles  was 
to  make  light  of  them, — had  artificial 
wreaths  and  bunches  of  artificial  flowers, 


of  the  richest  kind,  in  their  caps,  picked 
up  from  the  wreck  of  matter  scattered 
beneath  their  feet ;  in  this  garb,  they 
left  the  scene  of  their  protracted  toil,  pre 
senting  a  very  singular  contrast  with 
their  begrimmed  faces  and  jaded  appear 
ance. 

The  striking  advantage  of  railroads 
(then  in  their  infancy  in  the  United 
States),  especially  at  a  season  when  every 
thing  is  locked  up  in  ice,  was  never  more 
emphatically  demonstrated,  than  in  the 
prompt  arrival  of  fire  engines  from  New 
ark,  N.  J.,  nine  miles  distant.  The  same 
locomotive  that  early  on  Thursday  morn 
ing  carried  out  the  news  of  the  great  fire, 
brought  these  engines  on  their  platform 
within  an  hour  afterwards  to  the  city. 
Their  services  were  eminently  useful.  The 
noble  conduct,  too,  of  the  Philadelphia 
firemen,  Avon  for  them  deserved  praise. 
Immediately  on  the  receipt  of  the  intelli 
gence  from  New  York,  four  hundred  of 
them  organized  themselves  and  started  to 
go  on.  Unfortunately,  by  the  breaking 
down  of  one  of  the  cars  on  the  railroad,  a 
large  number  of  them  were  obliged  to  go 
back,  but  some  arrived  early  on  Saturday 
morning,  and  the  remainder  followed  with 
as  little  delay  as  possible.  They  reported 
themselves  immediately  on  arrival,  and 
having  stations  assigned  them  amid  the 
ruins,  went  to  work  with  great  spirit  and 
effect. 

The  appearance  of  things  on  the  day 
after  the  fire,  was  such  as  to  impress  itself, 
ineffaceably,  upon  the  memory.  It  re 
quired  but  a  slight  stretch  of  the  imagi 
nation,  for  the  beholder  to  feel  as  though 
he  were  in  the  vicinity  of  Pompeii,  with 
Vesuvius  sending  up  its  lurid  glare  close 
at  hand,  throwing  a  melancholy  light  over 
the  deserted  ruins.  Just  here  arose  a 
large  and  ragged  pile,  where  the  corners 
of  four  stately  buildings  still  stood  up  by 
mutual  support ;  there  towered  grandly  a 
solitary  chimney;  yonder  stood  the  frown, 
ing  fragment  of  a  vast  wall  ;  a  little  far 
ther,  was  the  front  of  a  half  block,  the 
windows  gone, —  reminding  one,  in  the 
dim  distance,  of  the  vacancy  and  desola- 


360 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 17T6-1876. 


RUINS  OF  THE  MERCHANTS'  T.XCHAN 


tion  of  a  castle ;  in  the  midst,  there 
loomed  up  half  a  dozen  cold-visaged  granite 
pillars,  standing  as  though  they  were  grim 
and  solitary  sentinels,  stationed  there  to 
frighten  the  plunderer  from  his  ill-sought 
booty.  But  here  is  the  grandest  ruin  of 
all — the  Exchange  !  with  its  huge  pillars 
rent  and  torn  from  top  to  bottom,  and  the 
massy  architraves,  like  the  antiquated 
temples  of  Carthage  and  Palmyra,  still 
tottering  upon  their  capitals  !  So  vast 
was  the  barren  waste,  that  an  uninter 
rupted  view  was  afforded  from  Wall  street 
to  the  East  river,  and  thence  to  Coenties 
slip  ;  a  prospect  of  awful  grandeur,  as  far 
as  the  eye  could  reach. 

As  has  already  been  stated,  the  Exchange 
was  the  architectural  pride,  not  only  of 
New  York,  but  of  the  nation.  It  was 
three  magnificent  stories  in  height,  with 
corresponding  basement  and  attic.  The 
south-west  front,  one  hundred  and  fourteen 
feet  front,  and  the  main  front  on  Wall 
street,  was  of  Westchester  marble.  The 
first  and  second  stories  were  of  the  Ionic 
order,  from  the  temple  of  Minerva  Polias, 
at  Prigne,  in  Ionia.  A  recessed  elliptical 
portico,  of  forty  feet  width,  introduced  in 


front.  A  screen  of  four  columns  and  two 
antae,  each  thirty  feet  high,  and  three  feet 
four  inches  in  diameter  above  the  base, 
composed  of  a  single  block  of  marble,  ex 
tended  across  the  front  of  the  portico,  sup 
porting  an  elegant  entablature  of  six  feet 
in  height,  on  which  rested  the  third  story, 
making  a  height  of  sixty  feet  from  the 
ground,  and  the  cupola  which  crowned  the 
structure  was  also  sixt}r  feet  high. 

The  principal  entrance  to  the  rotunda 
and  exchange  room  was  by  a  flight  of 
marble  steps,  with  a  pedestal  at  each  end. 
The  vestibule  was  of  the  Ionic  order, 
from  the  little  Ionic  temple  of  Illyssus. 
The  exchange  room,  which  was  the  rotunda, 
measured  seventy-five  feet  long,  fifty  feet 
wide,  and  forty-two  feet  high.  In  the 
center  of  this  splendid  rotunda  was 
erected,  by  the  liberality  of  the  New  York 
merchants,  the  statue  of  Alexander  Ham 
ilton,  sculptured  by  Ball  Hughes.  This 
fine  work  of  art  was  about  fifteen  feet 
high,  including  the  base  on  which  it  was 
elevated,  and  chiseled  from  the  whitest 
marble. 

After  a  long  and  critical  official  investi 
gation,  as  to  the  origin  of  this  fire,  the 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


361 


conclusion  arrived  at  by  the  citizens'  com 
mittee,  was,  that  a  report  like  an  explo 
sion  of  a  gas-pipe  was  heard  in  the  store 
No.  25  Merchant  street,  to  proceed  from 
No.  28,  and  soon  after  the  flames  seemed 
to  have  been  enkindled  on  the  first  floor, 
and  shot  up  with  the  rapidity  of  light 


ning  through  the  scuttles  in  the  several 
floors  to  the  upper  story  and  through  the 
roof.  The  fire,  therefore,  must  have  been 
produced  by  the  bursting  of  a  gas-pipe, 
and  the  distribution  of  the  gas,  until  it 
came  in  contact  with  the  coal  in  the  stove 
or  grate,  by  which  it  was  ignited. 


XL. 

STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  RIGHT  OF  PETITION  IN  CON 
GRESS.— 1836. 


John  Quincy  Adams,  the  "Old  Man  Eloquent,"  Carries  on  a  Contest  of  Eleven  Days,  Single-Handed, 
in  its  Defense,  in  the  House  of  Representatives  — Passage  of  the  "  Gag  Rule  " — Expulsion  and  Assas 
sination  Threatened — His  Unquailing  Courage. — A  Spectacle  Unwitnessed  Before  in  the  Halls  of 
Legislation  — Triumph  ol  His  Muster  Mind  — The  Right  and  Petition  a  Constitutional  One. — Indiscrim 
inate  and  Unrestricted. — Anti-Slavery  Petitions — Mr.  Adams  Their  Champion. — An  Unpopular  Posi 
tion —  He  Defies  every  Menace — His  Bold  and  Intrepid  Conduct. — The  North  and  South  at  Variance. 
Monster  Petitions  Pour  In  — A  Memorial  from  S  aves. — Wild  Tumult  in  the  House. — Cries  of  "  Expel 
the  Old  Scoundrel!" — Proposal  to  Censure  and  Disgrace  Him — Mr.  Adams  Unmoved  Amidst  the 
Tempest — Eloquence  and  Indomitableness — A  Petition  to  Dissolve  the  Union. — Increased  Exasper 
ation. — Violent  and  Denunciatory  Debate — Sublime  Bearing  of  Mr.  Adams. — Vindicated  and  Vic 
torious  at  Last. — What  He  Lived  to  See. — Honor  from  His  Opponents. 


"  Though  agfi.  he  wa«  «o  Iron  of  limb, 
Mont- of  the  youth  could  cope  with  him! 
And  the  !•••  -  whom  he  Kingly  kept  it  bay, 
Outnumbered  ln«  hoin  of  white  and  gray." 


Vivi  -  Iferv ^ENERABLE  in  years,  and  laden  with  political 
S^//  honors — such  as  a  king  might  be  proud  of,  John 
Quincy  Adams  took  his  seat  as  a  member  of  the 
house  of  representatives  at  Washington,  in  18.31. 
It  was  about  this  time,  that  the  anti-slavery  socie 
ties  of  the  North  began  to  petition  congress  for  the 
abolition  of  slavery  in  the  District  of  Columbia,  the 
inhibition  of  the  inter-state  slave-trade,  and  kin 
dred  measures.  Though  comparatively  few  at  the 
outset,  the  petitioners  for  these  objects  increased 
greatly  in  numbers  during  the  next  four  or  five 
years,  until  they  reached,  in  one  congress,  three- 
fourths  of  a  million.  But  not  all  of  these  petition 
ers  were  'abolitionists,'  in  the  then  commonly 
accepted  meaning  of  that  term.  In  the  defense  of 
the  untrammeled  right  of  petition,  as  also  that  of 
the  freedom  of  speech  and  of  the  press,  it  became 
evident  to  considerate  men,  of  all  parties,  that  not  alone  was  the  right  to  discuss  and 
petition  in  regard  to  slavery  involved,  but  that  vital  constitutional  principles  were  at 
stake,  and  that  these  must  be  defended,  irrespective  of  the  merits  of  the  particular  sub 
ject  over  which  the  battle  was  waged.  It  was  upon  this  broad  ground  that  Mr.  Adams, 


MONSTER  PETITION  TO  CONGRESS. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


3G3 


'  the  old  man  eloquent,'  as  he  was  famil 
iarly  called,  became  at  once  the  champion 
of  freedom  of  debate  and  the  right  of  peti 
tion  in  the  national  legislature,  making 
not  America  only,  but  the  civilized  world, 
resound  with  the  clash  of  the  conflict.  Of 
the  long  and  eventful  life  of  this  extraor 
dinary  man,  the  chapter  covering  the 
events  here  recorded  may  perhaps  be 
regarded  as  the  most  striking  and  brilliant. 
The  exalted  positions  he  had  held,  almost 
from  the  very  foundation  of  the  govern 
ment,  his  multifarious  learning,  his  world 
wide  renown,  lent  luster  to  the  cause ; 
while  his  exhaustless  resources,  his  skill  in 
debate,  his  dauntless  courage  and  indomit 
able  will,  were  a  tower  of  strength  to  its 
friends,  and,  as  the  sequel  will  show,  a 
source  of  mortification  and  discomfit 
ure  to  its  foes.  No  threats  and  no  tu 
mults  could  for  a  moment  cause  him  to 
quail  or  waver  in  his  heroic  determina 
tion. 

On  the  twelfth  of  December,  1831,  Mr. 
Adams,  then  at  the  very  outset  of  his  con 
gressional  career,  presented  fifteen  peti 
tions,  all  numerously  signed,  from  inhabi 
tants  of  Pennsylvania,  praying  for  the 
abolition  of  slavery  and  the  slave-trade  in 
the  District  of  Columbia.  In  presenting 
these  petitions,  Mr.  Adams  remarked,  that 
although  the  petitioners  were  not  his 
immediate  constituents,  he  inferred,  from  a 
letter  which  accompanied  the  petitions, 
that  they  came  from  members  of  the  Soci 
ety  of  Friends,  or  Quakers,  —  a  body  of 
men,  he  declared,  than  whom  there  was  no 
more  respectable  and  worthy  class  of  citi 
zens  in  the  whole  country.  At  the  same 
time,  while  he  considered  that  the  petitions 
for  the  abolition  of  the  slave-trade  in  the 
District  related  to  a  proper  subject  for  the 
legislation  of  Congress,  he  did  not  approve 
of  those  which  prayed  for  the  congressional 
abolition  of  slaver}7  there. 

Similar  petitions  were  constantly  for 
warded  from  different  parts  of  the  land, 
during  successive  terms  of  congress,  for 
Mr.  Adams  to  present,  the  parties  well 
knowing  that  they  could  rely  upon  his 
scrupulous  fidelity  to  them  in  the  high 


places  of  power,  and  that,  against  all  men 
aces  or  blandishments,  he  would  intrepidly 
advocate  that  most  sacred  privilege  of  free 
men — the  right  of  petition. 

Becoming  alarmed  at  these  demonstra 
tions,  the  southern  members  of  congress 
determined  to  arrest  them,  and,  on  the 
eighth  of  February,  1836,  a  committee  of 
the  house  was  appointed  to  consider  what 
disposition  should  be  made  of  petitions  and 
memorials  of  this  nature.  The  report  of 
this  committee  consisted,  in  substance,  of 
three  resolutions,  as  follows :  First,  that 
congress  could  not  constitutionally  inter 
fere  with  slavery  in  any  of  the  states ; 
second,  that  it  ought  not  to  interfere  with 
slavery  in  the  District  of  Columbia  ;  third, 
that  all  petitions,  propositions,  or  papers  of 
any  kind,  relating  to  the  subject,  should, 
if  brought  before  congress,  be  laid  upon 
the  table,  without  liberty  of  debate,  and 
receive  no  further  action.  This  report 
ivas  the  casting  of  the  die.  Well  was  it 
called  the  "Gag  Rub." 

When  the  first  of  these  resolutions  was 
taken  up,  Mr.  Adams  said,  if  the  house 
would  allow  him  five  minutes'  time,  he 
would  prove  the  resolution  to  be  untrue. 
His  request  was  denied.  On  the  third 
declaration,  Mr.  Adams  refused  to  vote, 
and  sent  to  the  speaker's  chair  the  follow 
ing  protest,  demanding  that  it  should  be 
placed  on  the  journal  of  the  house,  there 
to  stand  to  the  latest  posterity : 

"I  hold  the  resolution  to  be  a  direct  vio 
lation  of  the  constitution  of  the  United 
States,  of  the  rules  of  this  house,  and  of 
the  rights  of  my  constituents." 

Notwithstanding  the  rule  embodied  in 
this  resolution  virtually  trampled  the  right 
of  petition  into  the  dust,  yet  it  was  adopted 
by  the  house,  by  a  large  majority.  But 
Mr.  Adams  was  not  to  be  baffled  by  this 
arbitrary  restriction.  Petitions  on  the 
subject  of  slavery  continued  to  be  trans 
mitted  to  him  in  increased  numbers,  some 
of  them  of  monster  size,  bearing  thousands 
of  signatures.  With  unwavering  firmness 
— against  a  bitter  and  unscrupulous  oppo 
sition,  exasperated  to  the  highest  pitch  by 
his  unconquerable  pertinacity  —  amidst  a 


364 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


perfect  tempest  of  vituperation  and  abuse 
— he  persevered,  unvanquished,  in  present 
ing  these  petitions,  one  by  one,  to  the 
amount  sometimes  of  two  hundred  in  a 
day,  and  demanding  the  attention  of  the 
house  on  each  separate  petition.  His 
position  in  these  scenes,  —  advocating, 
amidst  scorn  and  derision,  and  threats  of 
expulsion  and  assassination,  the  inalienable 


J. 


right  of  petition  for  the  poorest  and  hum 
blest  in  the  land,  —  was  in  the  highest 
degree  illustrious  and  sublime  ;  a  spectacle 
unwitnessed  before  in  the  halls  of  legisla 
tion. 

On  the  sixth  of  January,  1837,  Mr. 
Adams  presented  the  petition  of  one  hun 
dred  and  fifty  women,  whom  he  stated  to 
be  the  wives  and  daughters  of  his  immedi 
ate  constituents,  praying  for  the  abolition 
of  slavery  in  the  District  of  Columbia; 
and  he  moved  that  the  petition  be  read. 
Objection  was  made,  whereupon  Mr. 
Adams  remarked  that,  understanding  that 
it  was  not  the  petition  itself  which  was 
laid  upon  the  table,  but  the  motion  to 
receive,  he  gave  notice  that  he  should  call 
uj>  that  motion,  for  decision,  every  day,  so 
long  as  freedom  of  speech  was  allowed  to 
him  as  a  member  of  the  house.  Being 
called  to  order  at  this  stage  of  proceedings, 
Mr.  Adams  said  he  would  then  have  the 
honor  of  presenting  to  the  house  the  peti 
tion  of  two  hundred  and  twenty-eight 
women,  the  wives  and  daughters  of  his 


immediate  constituents ;  and,  as  a  part  of 
the  speech  which  he  intended  to  make,  he 
would  take  the  liberty  of  reading  the  peti 
tion,  which  was  not  long,  and  would  not 
consume  much  time.  Objection  being 
made  to  the  reception  of  the  petition,  Mr. 
Adams  at  once  proceeded  to  read,  that  the 
petitioners,  inhabitants  of  South  "\Vey- 
mouth,  in  the  state  of  Massachusetts, 
"impressed  with  the  sinfulness  of  slavery, 
and  keenly  aggrieved  by  its  existence  in 
a  purt  of  our  country  over  which  con 
gress  — 

Here  Mr.  Pinckney,  of  South  Carolina, 
rose  to  a  question  of  order,  and,  after  a 
brisk  colloquy  in  the  house,  the  speaker 
ruled  that  Mr.  Adams  must  confine  him 
self  to  stating  the  contents  of  the  petition. 

Mr.  Adams. — I  am  doing  so,  sir. 

The  Speaker. — Not  in  the  opinion  of 
the  chair. 

Mr.  Adams. — I  was  at  this  point  of  the 
petition:  "Keenly  aggrieved  by  its  exist 
ence  in  a  part  of  our  country  over  which 
congress  possesses  exclusive  jurisdiction 
in  all  cases  whatsoever — 

Loud  cries  of  "Order,"  "Order!" 

Mr.  Adams. — "  Do  most  earnestly  peti 
tion  your  honorable  body — 

Mr.  Chambers,  of  Kentucky,  rose  to  a 
point  of  order. 

Mr.  Adams. — "Immediately  to  abolish 
slavery  in  the  District  of  Columbia — 

Mr.  Chambers  reiterated  his  call  to 
order,  and  the  Speaker  directed  Mr. 
Adams  to  take  his  seat. 

Mr.  Adams  proceeded,  however,  with 
great  rapidity  of  enunciation,  and  in  a 
very  loud  tone  of  voice — "  And  to  declare 
every  human  being  free  who  sets  foot  upon 
its  soil !  " 

The  confusion  in  the  hall  at  this  time 
was  very  great.  The  speaker  decided  that 
it  was  not  in  order  for  a  member  to  read  a 
petition,  whether  it  was  long  or  short. 

Mr.  Adams  appealed  from  any  decision 
which  went  to  establish  the  principle  that 
a  member  of  the  United  States  house  of 
representatives  should  not  have  the  power 
to  read  what  he  chose.  He  had  never 
before  heard  of  such  a  thing.  If  the  hith- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


365 


erto  invariable  practice  was  to  be  reversed, 
let  the  decision  stand  upon  record,  and  let 
it  appear  ho\v  entirely  the  freedom  of 
speech  was  suppressed  in  this  house.  If 
the  reading  of  a  paper  was  to  be  suppressed 
in  his  person,  so  help  him  God,  he  would 
only  consent  to  it  as  a  matter  of  record. 
Saying  this,  he  instantly  resumed  and 
finished  the  reading  of  the  petition,  that 
the  petitioners 

" respectfully  announce  their  inten 
tion  to  present  the  same  petition  yearly 
before  this  honorable  body,  that  it  might 
at  least  be  a  memorial  in  the  holy  cause  of 
human  freedom,  that  they  had  done  what 
they  could." 

These  words  were  read  by  Mr.  Adams, 
at  the  top  of  his  voice,  amidst  tumultuous 
cries  of  "  order "  from  every  part  of  the 
house.  The  petition  was  finally  received, 
and  laid  upon  the  table. 

One  month  after  this,  namely,  on  the 
seventh  of  February,  after  Mr.  Adams  had 
offered  some  two  hundred  or  more  aboli 
tion  petitions,  he  came  to  a  halt,  and,  with 
out  yielding  the  floor,  employed  himself  in 
packing  up  or  arranging  his  budget  of 
documents.  He  was  about  resuming  his 
seat,  when,  suddenly  glancing  at  a  paper 
on  his  desk,  he  took  it  up,  and  exclaimed, 
in  a  shrill  tone — 

"Mr.  Speaker,  I  have  in  my  possession, 
a  petition  of  a  somewhat  extraordinary 
character;  and  I  wish  to  inquire  of  the 
chair  if  it  be  in  order  to  present  it." 

The  Speaker  replied,  that  if  the  gentle 
man  from  Massachusetts  would  state  the 
character  of  the  petition,  the  chair  would 
probably  be  able  to  decide  on  the  subject. 

"Sir,"  ejaculated  Mr.  Adams,  "the 
petition  is  signed  by  eleven  slaves  of  the 
town  of  Fredericksburg,  in  the  county  of 
Culpepper,  in  the  state  of  Virginia.  It  is 
one  of  those  petitions  which,  it  has  oc 
curred  to  my  mind,  are  not  what  they 
purport  to  be.  It  is  signed  partly  by  per 
sons  who  cannot  write,  by  making  their 
marks,  and  partly  by  persons  whose  hand 
writing  would  manifest  that  they  have 
received  the  education  of  slaves.  The 
petition  declares  itself  to  be  from  slaves, 


and  I  am  requested  to  present  it.     I  will 
send  it  to  the  chair." 

The  speaker,  Mr.  Polk,  who  habitually 
extended  to  Mr.  Adams  every  courtesy 
and  kindness  imaginable,  was  taken  by 
surprise,  and  found  himself  involved  in  a 
dilemma.  Giving  his  chair  one  of  those 
hitches  which  ever  denoted  his  excitement, 
he  said  that  a  petition  from  slaves  was  a 
novelty,  and  involved  a  question  that  he 
did  not  feel  called  on  to  decide.  He 
would  like  to  take  time  to  consider  it ;  and, 
in  the  meantime,  would  refer  it  to  the 
house.  The  house  was  very  thin  at  the 
time,  and  but  little  attention  was  paid  to 
what  was  going  on,  till  the  excitement  of 
the  speaker  attracted  the  attention  of  Mr. 
Dixon  H.  Lewis,  of  Alabama,  who  impa 
tiently,  and  under  great  excitement,  rose 
and  inquired  what  the  petition  was.  The 
speaker  furnished  the  required  informa 
tion  ;  whereupon  Mr.  Lewis,  forgetting  all 
discretion,  whilst  he  frothed  at  the  mouth, 
turned  towards  Mr.  Adams,  and  exclaimed, 
in  thunder-tones — 

"  By ,  sir,  this  is  not  to  be  endured 

any  longer  /" 

"Treason  !  treason  !  Expel  the  old  scoun 
drel  ;  put  him  out;  do  not  let  him  disgrace 
the  house  any  longer,"  screamed  a  half 
dozen  other  members. 

"  Get  up  a  resolution  to  meet  the  case," 
exclaimed  a  member  from  North  Carolina. 
Mr.  George  C.  Dromgoole,  who  had  ac 
quired  quite  a  reputation  as  a  parliamen 
tarian,  was  selected  as  the  very  man  who, 
of  all  others,  was  most  capable  of  drawing 
up  a  resolution  that  would  meet  and  cover 
the  emergency.  He  produced  a  resolution 
and  preamble,  in  which  it  was  stated,  sub 
stantially,  that,  whereas  the  Hon.  John 
Quincy  Adams,  a  representative  from  Mas 
sachusetts,  had  presented  to  the  house  a 
petition  signed  by  negro  slaves,  thus 
"  giving  color  to  an  idea  "  that  bondmen 
were  capable  of  exercising  the  right  of 
petition,  it  was  "Resolved,  That  he  be 
taken  to  the  bar  of  the  house,  and  be  cen 
sured  by  the  speaker  thereof." 

A  still  more  stringent  resolution  was 
introduced  by  Hon.  Waddy  Thompson, 


366 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


namely,  that  Mr.  Adams,  "having  been 
guilty  of  gross  disrespect  to  the  house,  be 
instantly  brought  to  the  bar,  to  receive 
the  severe  censure  of  the  speaker."  Sev 
eral  other  resolutions  and  propositions, 
from  members  of  slave-holding  states,  were 
submitted,  but  none  proved  satisfactory 
even  to  themselves.  The  idea  of  bringing 
the  venerabje  ex-president  to  the  bar,  like 
a  culprit,  to  receive  a  reprimand  from  a 
comparatively  youthful  speaker,  was  equal 
ly  disgraceful  and  absurd.  Mr.  Adams, 
however,  entirely  unmoved  by  the  tempest 
which  raged  around  him,  defended  him 
self,  and  the  integrity  of  his  purpose,  with 
his  accustomed  ability  and  eloquence. 

"In  regard  to  the  resolutions  now 
before  the  house,"  said  lie,  "as  they  all 
concur  in  naming  mo,  and  in  charging  me 
with  high  crimes  and  misdemeanors,  and 
in  calling  me  to  the  bar  of  the  house  to 
answer  for  my  crimes,  I  have  thought  it 
was  my  duty  to  remain  silent,  until  it 
should  be  the  pleasure  of  the  house  to  act 
either  on  one  or  the  other  of  these  resolu 
tions.  I  suppose  that  if  I  shall  be  brought 
to  the  bar  of  the  house,  I  shall  not  be 
struck  mute  by  the  previous  question, 
before  I  have  an  opportunity  to  say  a  word 
or  two  in  my  own  defense." 

"Now,  as  to  the  fact  what  the  petition 
was  for,"  said  Mr.  Adams,  in  another  por 
tion  of  his  speech,  "I  simply  state  to  the 
gentleman  from  Alabama,  who  has  sent  to 
the  table  a  resolution  assuming  that  this 
petition  Avas  for  the  abolition  of  slavery — 
I  state  to  him  that  he  is  mistaken.  He 
must  amend  his  resolution;  for  if  the 
house  should  choose  to  read  this  petition, 
I  can  state  to  them  they  would  find  it 
something  very  much  the  reverse  of  that 
which  the  resolution  states  it  to  be.  And 
if  the  gentleman  from  Alabama  still 
chooses  to  bring  me  to  the  bar  of  the 
house,  he  must  amend  his  resolution  in  a 
very  important  particular;  for  he  may 
probably  have  to  put  into  it,  that  my  crime 
has  been  for  attempting  to  introduce  the 
petition  of  slaves  that  slavery  should  not 
be  abolished." 

Reiterating  the  principle,  that  the  right 


of  petition  belongs  to  nil,  Mr.  Adams  said 
that  he  felt  it  a  sacred  duty  to  present  any 
petition,  couched  in  respectful  language, 
from  any  citizen  of  the  United  States,  be 
its  object  what  it  might, — be  the  prayer  of 
it  that  in  which  he  could  concur,  or  that  to 
which  he  was  utterly  opposed;  no  law 
could  be  found,  even  in  the  most  abject 
despotism,  which  deprives  even  the  mean 
est  or  most  degraded,  of  the  right  to  sup 
plicate  for  a  boon,  or  to  pray  for  mercy; 
there  is  no  absolute  monarch  on  earth,  who 
is  not  compelled  to  receive  the  petitions  of 
his  people,  whosoever  they  may  be, — not 
even  the  sultan  of  Turkey  can  walk  the 
streets  and  refuse  to  receive  petitions  from 
the  lowest  and  vilest  of  the  land. 

When  southern  members  saw  that,  in 
their  haste,  they  had  not  tarried  to  ascer 
tain  the  nature  of  the  petition,  and  that  it 
prayed  for  the  perpetuation,  instead  of  the 
abolition  of  slavery,  their  position  became 
so  ludicrous,  that  their  exasperation  was 
greatly  increased.  At  the  time  the 
petition  was  announced  by  Mr.  Adams, 
the  house  was  very  thin;  but  the  excite 
ment  that  was  produced  soon  filled  it; 
and,  besides,  the  sergeant-at-arms  had  been 
instructed  to  arrest  and  bring  in  all  absen 
tees.  The  excitement  commenced  at  about 
one  o'clock,  and  continued  until  seven 
o'clock  in  the  evening,  when  the  house 
adjourned.  Mr.  Adams  stood  at  his  desk, 
resolutely  refusing  to  be  seated  till  the 
matter  was  disposed  of,  alleging  that  if 
he  were  guilty,  he  was  not  entitled  to  a 
seat  among  high  and  honorable  men. 
When  Mr.  Dromgoole's  resolution  was 
read  to  the  house,  for  its  consideration, 
Mr.  Adams  yielded  to  it  one  of  those  sar 
castic  sneers  which  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
giving,  when  provoked  to  satire;  and  said 
— "Mr.  Speaker,  if  I  understand  the  reso 
lution  of  the  honorable  gentleman  from 
Virginia,  it  charges  me  with  being  guilty 
of  '  giving  color  to  an  idea  /"  The  whole 
house  broke  forth  in  one  common,  irrepres 
sible  peal  of  laughter,  at  this  capital  double 
entendre;  and  the  Dromgoole  resolution 
was  actually  laughed  out  of  existence. 
The  house  now  found  that  it  had  got  itself 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


367 


in  a  dilemma — that  Mr.  Adams  was  too 
much  for  it ;  and,  at  last,  adjourned,  leav 
ing  the  affair  in  the  position  in  which 
they  found  it. 

For  several  days  this  subject  continued 
to  agitate  the  house — and  the  nation.  Mr. 
Adams  not  only  warded  off  the  virulent 
attacks  made  upon  him,  but  carried  the 
war  so  effectually  into  the  camp  of  his  ene 
mies,  that,  becoming  heartily  tired  of  the 
contest,  they  repeatedly  endeavored  to  get 
rid  of  the  whole  subject  by  laying  it  on 
the  table.  To  this  Mr.  Adams  objected. 
He  insisted  that  it  should  be  thoroughly 
canvassed.  Immense  excitement  contin 
ued,  and  call  after  call  of  the  house  was 
made.  At  length,  the  subject  was  brought 
to  a  termination  by  the  passage  of  a  pre 
amble  and  resolution  —  much  softened 
down,  in  comparison  with  what  was  at  first 
proposed — declaring  that  the  paper  cannot 
be  received,  and  that  slaves  have  no  right 
to  petition. 

The  slave  petition  in  question  is  believed 
to  have  been  a  counterfeit,  manufactured 
by  certain  members  of  congress  from 
slave-holding  states,  and  was  sent  to  Mr. 
Adams  by  way  of  experiment — with  the 
double  design  of  ascertaining  if  he  could 
be  imposed  upon ;  and,  if  the  deception 
succeeded,  those  who  got  it  up  were  curi 
ous  to  know  if  the  venerable  statesman 
would  redeem  his  pledge,  and  present  a 
petition,  no  matter  who  it  came  from.  He 
was  too  wily  not  to  detect  the  plot  at  the 
outset ;  he  knew  that  all  was  a  hoax ;  but 
he  resolved  to  present  the  paper,  and  then 
turn  the  tables  upon  its  authors. 

His  success  in  thus  defeating  his  oppo 
nents  on  their  mad  intention  of  censure, 
was  one  of  the  most  signal  instances  of 
personal  and  parliamentary  triumph.  In 
vain  did  they  threaten  assassination, 
indictment  before  the  grand  jury,  and 
other  proceedings,  to  seal  his  lips  in 
silence.  In  vain,  too,  did  they  declare 
that  he  should  "be  made  amenable  to 
another  tribunal  (mob  law),  and,  as  an 
incendiary,  be  brought  to  condign  punish 
ment."  "My  life  on  it,"  said  a  southern 
member,  "if  he  presents  that  petition  from 


slaves,  we  shall  yet  see  him  within  the 
walls  of  the  penitentiary."  Firm  stood 
the  white-haired  sage  of  more  than  seventy 
winters,  and  with  withering  rebukes 
repelled  his  hot-blooded  assailants.  His 
clarion  voice  rang  defiantly  through  the 
hall,  as  he  said — 

"  Do  the  gentlemen  from  the  south 
think  they  can  frighten  me  by  their 
threats  ?  If  that  be  their  object,  let  me 
tell  them,  sir,  they  have  precisely  mistaken 
their  man.  I  am  not  to  be  frightened 
from  the  discharge  of  a  sacred  duty,  by 
their  indignation,  by  their  violence,  nor, 
sir,  by  all  the  grand  juries  in  the  universe. 
I  have  done  only  my  duty;  and  I  shall  do 
it  again,  under  the  same  circumstances, 
even  though  they  recur  to-morrow." 

On  the  twenty-fourth  of  January,  1842, 
Mr.  Adams  presented  the  petition  of  forty- 
five  citizens  of  Haverhill,  Massachusetts, 
praying  that  congress  would  immediately 
take  measures  peaceably  to  dissolve  the 
Union  of  the  States :  First,  because  no 
union  can  be  agreeable  which  does  not 
present  prospects  of  reciprocal  benefits ; 
second,  because  a  vast  proportion  of  the 
resources  of  one  section  of  the  Union  is 
annually  drained  to  sustain  the  views  and 
course  of  another  section,  without  any 
adequate  return;  third,  because,  judging 
from  the  history  of  past  nations,  such  a 
union,  if  persisted  in,  in  the  present  course 
of  things,  would  certainly  overwhelm  the 
whole  nation  in  utter  destruction. 

Mr.  Adams  moved  that  the  petition  be 
referred  to  a  select  committee,  with  in 
structions  to  report  an  answer  showing  the 
reasons  why  the  prayer  of  it  ought  not  to 
be  granted. 

Immediate  and  wild  excitement  fol 
lowed  the  presentation  of  this  petition. 
Mr.  Hopkins,  of  Virginia,  moved  to  burn 
it  in  presence  of  the  house.  Mr.  Wise,  of 
the  same  state,  asked  the  speaker  if  it  was 
in  order  to  move  to  censure  an}r  member 
for  presenting  such  a  petition.  Mr. 
Gilmer,  also  of  Virginia,  moved  a  resolu 
tion,  that  Mr.  Adams,  for  presenting  such 
a  petition,  had  justly  incurred  the  censure 
of  the  house.  Mr.  Adams  said  he  hoped 


368 


OUR  FiftST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


JOITN  QUINCY   ADAMS  DEFENDING  THE  BIGHT  OF  PETITION  IN  CONGRESS. 


that  the  resolution  would  be  received  and 
discussed.  Angry  debate  continued,  until 
the  house  adjourned. 

The  next  day,  the  whole  body  of  south 
ern  members  came  into  the  house,  appar 
ently  resolved  to  crush  Mr.  Adams  and  his 
cause  —  the  right  of  petition — forever. 
They  gathered  in  groups,  conversed  in 
Whispers,  and  the  whole  aspect  of  their 
conduct  at  twelve  o'clock  indicated  the 
approach  of  some  high-handed  proceeding. 
Thomas  F.  Marshall,  of  Kentucky,  who 
had  been  selected  as  spokesman  for  the 
occasion,  rose,  and,  having  asked  and 
received  of  Mr.  Gilmer  leave  to  offer  a 
substitute  for  his  resolution  of  censure 
which  was  pending  at  the  adjournment, 
presented  three  resolutions,  which  had 
been  prepared  at  a  caucus,  the  night 
before,  and  which  declared  that  the  peti 
tion  in  question  involved  a  proposition  to 
the  house  to  commit  perjury  and  high 
treason,  and  that  Mr.  Adams,  for  offering 
it,  receive  the  severest  censure  of  that 
body. 

Assuming  a  manner  and  tone  as  if  he 


felt  the  historical  importance  of  his  posi 
tion,  he  spoke  with  great  coolness  and 
solemnity, —  a  style  wholly  unusual  with 
him)  exhibited,  too,  a  magisterial  air,  and 
judicial  consequence,  as  if  he  thought  that 
he  was  about  to  pour  down  the  thunder  of 
condemnation  on  the  venerable  object  of 
his  attack,  as  a  judge  pronouncing  sentence 
on  a  convicted  culprit,  in  the  sight  of 
approving  men  and  angels.  The  vast 
audience  before  whom  he  spoke  were  not 
to  be  left  in  any  doubt  of  his  eminent 
capacity  to  act  the  part  he  had  assumed, 
of  prosecutor,  judge,  and  executioner. 

When  Mr.  Marshall  concluded,  the 
chair  announced  to  Mr.  Adams  that  his 
position  entitled  him  to  the  floor  ;  bringing 
up  to  the  imagination  a  parallel  scene — 
'Then  Agrippa  said  unto  Paul,  Thou  art 
permitted  to  speak  for  thyself.' 

Up  rose,  then,  that  bald,  gray  old  man, 
his  hands  trembling  with  constitutional 
infirmity  and  age,  upon  whose  consecrated 
head  the  vials  of  partisan  wrath  had  been 
outpoured.  Among  the  crowd  of  slave 
holders  who  filled  the  galleries  he  could 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


369 


•seek  no  friends,  and  but  a  few  among  those 
immediately  around  him.  Unexcited,  lie 
raised  his  voice,  high-keyed,  as  was  usual 
with  him,  hut  clear,  untremulous,  and 
firm.  In  a  moment  his  infirmities  disap 
peared,  although  his  shaking  hand  could 
not  hut  he  noticed  ;  trembling  not  with 
fear,  but  with  age.  At  iirst  there  was 
nothing  of  indignation  in  his  tone,  manner, 
or  words.  Surprise  and  cold  contempt 
were  all.  The  thread  of  his  great  discourse 
Avas  mainly  his  present  and  past  relations 
to  Virginia  and  Virginians.  After  grate 
fully  acknowledging  his  infinite  obligations 
to  the  great  Virginians  of  the  first  age  of 
the  federal  republic,  he  modestly  and 
unpretendingly  recounted  the  unsought, 
exalted  honors,  heaped  upon  him  by  Wash 
ington,  Madison,  and  Monroe,  and  detailed 
with  touching  simplicity  and  force  some  of 
his  leading  actions  in  the  discharge  of 
these  weighty  trusts.  In  pursuing  his 
remarks,  he  chanced  to  fix  iiis  eye  upon 
Marshall,  who  was  moving  down  one  of 
the  side-aisles.  Instantly,  at  the  sugges 
tion  of  the  moment,  he  burst  forth  in  a 
touching  appeal  to  the  hallowed  memory 
of  Marshal],  the  venerated  and  immaculate 
Virginian,  through  a  long  career  of  judi 
cial  honor  and  usefulness.  With  a  Hash 
of  withering  scorn,  Mr.  Adams  struck  at 
the  unhappy  Marshall  of  another  day.  A 
single  breath  blew  all  his  mock-judicial 
array  into  air  and  smoke.  In  a  tone  of 
insulted  majesty  and  reinvigorated  spirit, 
Mr.  Adams  then  said,  in  reply  to  the  auda 
cious  charge  of  high  treason, 

"I  call  for  the  reading  of  the  first  para 
graph  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence. 
Read  it!  read  it!  and  see  what  that,  says 
of  the  right  of  a  people  to  reform,  to 
change,  to  dissolve  their  government." 

The  look,  the  tone,  the  gesture,  of  the 
insulted  patriot,  at  that  instant,  were  most 
imposing.  He  seemed  to  have  renewed  his 
youth  like  the  eagles,  and  his  voice  was 
that  of  sovereign  command.  The  burthen 
of  seventy-five  winters  rolled  off,  and  he 
rose;  above  the  puny  things  around  him. 
When  the  passage  of  the  Declaration  was 
read  which  solemnly  proclaims  the  right 
24 


of  reform,  revolution,  and  resistance  to 
oppression,  the  grand  old  man  thundered 
out — 

"  Rend  that  again!" 

Looking  proudly  around  on  the  listen^ 
ing  audience,  he  heard  his  triumphant 
A'indication  sounded  forth  in  the  glorious 
sentences  of  the  nation's  Magna  Charta, 
written  by  Mr.  Jefferson,  a  Virginian. 
The  sympathetic  revulsion  of  feeling  Avas 
intense,  though  A'oiceless ;  every  drop  of 
free,  honest  blood  in  that  vast  assemblage 
bounded  with  high  impulse,  every  fiber 
thrilled  with  excitement.  The  members 
of  the  house  were  all  gathered  around  him, 
even  his  persecutors  paying  involuntary 
tribute  to  the  'old  man  eloquent.'  Lord 
Morpeth  was  an  attentive  spectator  and 
auditor ;  and  so  were  governors,  senators, 
judges,  and  other  high  officials,  inmunera- 
ble.  A  strong  exhibition  of  the  facts  in 
the  case,  mostly  in  cold,  calm,  logical, 
measured  sentences,  concluded  Mr.  Adams' a 
effort,  and  he  sat  down,  vindicated,  A'ictc- 
rious. 

Intemperate  debates,  Avith  violence  undi- 
minished,  succeeded,  in  Avhich  all  the 
topics  of  party  censure,  from  the  adoption 
of  the  constitution,  Avere  collected  and 
heaped  upon  Mr.  Adams,  by  Marshall, 
Wise,  Gilmer,  and  others.  No  description 
can  do  justice  to  the  effective  eloquence  of 
Mr.  Adams  in  reply, — including  amusing 
particulars  of  missives  he  had  received 
from  the  south  threatening  him  Avith 
assassination  ;  among  other  kindly  hints, 
of  this  sort,  sent  through  the  post-office, 
being  a  colored  lithograph  portrait  of  him 
self,  Avith  the  picturesque  annotation  of  a 
rifle-ball  on  the  forehead,  and  a  promise 
that  such,  a  remedy  Avould  "stop  his 
music." 

On  the  eleventh  day  of  this  debate,  Mr. 
Adams,  in  opening  his  defense,  stated  it 
as  his  intention  to  go  over  the  whole  affair, 
and  that  he  should  require  a  great  deal 
more  time,  in  addition  to  what  had  already 
been  consumed;  but  he  was  Avilling  to 
forego  it  all,  provided  it  could  be  done 
without  sacrificing  his  rights,  the  rights 
of  his  constituents,  and  those  of  the  peti- 


370 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-187G. 


tioners.  He  then  stated,  that  if  any 
gentleman  would  make  a  motion  to  lay  the 
whole  subject  —  that  of  which  Marshall 
had  been  made  the  champion  —  on  the 
table,  he  would  forbear  to  proceed  with 
his  defense.  This  motion  was  at  once 
made  by  Mr.  Botts,  of  Virginia,  and  car 
ried  bv  a  vote  of  one  hundred  and  six  to 
ninety-three.  The  petition  from  Haverhill 
was  then  refused  to  be  received,  three- 
fourths  of  the  house  voting  against  it. 

It  would  appear  well-nigh  incredible, 
that  a  venerable  man  like  Mr.  Adams 
should  be  able  to  carry  on,  for  eleven 
days,  almost  single-handed,  so  great  a  con 
test.  That  this  was  due,  in  no  small 
degree,  to  his  consummate  skill  as  a  par 
liamentarian,  cannot  be  questioned.  The 
following  memorable  instance  of  his  power 
in  this  respect,  will  form  a  fitting  close  to 
this  chapter. 

At  the  opening  of  the  twenty-sixth  con 
gress,  the  clerk  began  to  call  the  roll  of 
the  members,  according  to  custom.  "NYhen 
he  came  to  New  Jersey,  he  stated  that 
five  seats  of  the  members  from  that  state 
were  contested,  and  that,  not  feeling  him 
self  authorized  to  decide  the  question,  he 
should  pass  over  those  names,  and  proceed 
with  the  call.  This  gave  rise  to  a  general 
and  violent  debate  on  the  steps  to  be  pur 
sued  under  such  circumstances.  Innumer 
able  questions  were  raised,  and  proposi 
tions  made,  but  the  house  could  not  agree 
upon  the  mode  of  proceeding,  and,  from 
the  second  to  the  lifth  day,  the  house 
remained  in  a  perfectly  disorganized  state, 
and  in  inextricable  confusion,  the  clerk 
acting  as  the  tool  of  his  party.  But  the 
hour  of  disenthrallment  was  at  hand  ;  a 
scene  was  to  be  presented  which  would 
send  the  mind  back  to  those  days  when 
Cromwell  exclaimed,  "Sir  Harry  Vane! 
wo  unto  you,  Sir  Harry  Vane  ! " — and  in 
an  instant  dispersed  the  famous  rump  par 
liament. 

Mr.  Adams,  from  the  opening  of  this 
scene  of  confusion  and  anarchy,  had  main 
tained  a  profound  silence.  He  appeared 
to  be  engaged  most  of  the  time  in  writing. 
To  a  common  observer  he  seemed  to  be 


reckless  of  everything  around  him.  But 
nothing,  not  the  slightest  incident,  escaped 
him. 

The  fourth  day  of  the  struggle  had 
now  commenced.  Mr.  Hugh  A.  Garland, 
the  clerk,  was  directed  to  call  the  roll 
again.  He  commenced  with  Maine,  as 
usual  in  those  days,  and  was  proceeding 
towards  Massachusetts.  Mr.  Adams  was 
now  observed  to  lie  holding  himself  in 
readiness  to  get  the  floor  at  the  earliest 
moment  possible.  His  eye  was  riveted 
on  the  clerk,  his  hands  clasped  the  front 
edge  of  his  desk,  where  he  always  placed 
them  to  assist  him  in  rising.  He  looked, 
in  the  language  of  Otway,  like  a  '  fowler 
eager  for  his  prey.' 

"New  Jersey!"  ejaculated  Mr.  Hugh 
Garland,  "  and  the  clerk  has  to  repeat 
that- 

Mr.  Adams  sprang  to  the  floor! 

"I  rise  to  interrupt  the  clerk,"  was  his 
first  ejaculation. 

"  Silence,  silence  !  "  resounded  through 
the  hall.  "Hear  him,  hear  him!  Hear 
what  he  has  to  say  !  Hear  John  Quincy 
Adams!"  was  vociferated  on  all  sides. 

In  an  instant,  such  profound  silence 
reigned  throughout  the  vast  chamber,  that 
the  fall  of  a  leaf  of  paper  might  have  been 
heard  in  any  part  of  it;  and  every  eye  was 
riveted  on  the  venerable  Nestor  of  Massa 
chusetts, — one  of  the  purest  of  statesmen 
and  noblest  of  men  !  He  paused  for  a 
moment,  and,  having  given  Mr.  Garland 
a  withering  look,  he  proceeded  to  address 
the  dense  throng. 

('It  was  not  my  intention,"  said  he,  "to 
take  any  part  in  these  extraordinary  pro 
ceedings.  I  had  hoped  that  this  house 
would  succeed  in  organizing  itself;  that  a 
speaker  and  clerk  would  be  elected,  and 
that  the  ordinary  business  of  legislation 
would  have  been  progressed  in.  This  is 
not  the  time,  or  place,  to  discuss  the 
merits  of  the  conflicting  claimants  for 
seats  from  New  Jersey ;  that  subject 
belongs  to  the  house  of  representatives, 
which,  by  the  constitution,  is  made  the 
ultimate  arbiter  of  the  qualifications  of  its 
members.  But  what  a  spectacle  we  here 


GEEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


371 


present !  We  degrade  and  disgrace  our 
selves  ;  we  degrade  and  disgrace  our  con 
stituents  and  our  country.  We  do  not, 
and  cannot  organize  ;  and  why  ?  Because 
the  clerk  of  this  house,  the  mere  clerk, 
whom  we  create,  whom  we  employ,  and 
whose  existence  depends  upon  our  will, 
usurps  the  throne,  and  sets  us,  the  repre 
sentatives,  the  vicegerents  of  the  whole 
American  people,  at  defiance,  and  holds  us 
in  contempt !  And  what  is  this  clerk  of 
yours  ?  Is  he  to  control  the  destinies  of 
sixteen  millions  of  freemen  ?  Is  he  to 
suspend,  by  his  mere  negative,  the  func 
tions  of  government,  and  put  an  end  to 
this  congress  ?  He  refuses  to  call  the 
roll  !  It  is  in  your  power  to  compel  him 
to  call  it,  if  he  will  not  do  it  voluntarily." 

Here  he  was  interrupted  by  a  member, 
who  said  that  he  was  authorized  to  say 
that  compulsion  could  not  reach  the  clerk, 
who  had  avowed  that  he  would  resign, 
rather  than  call  the  state  of  New  Jersey. 

"  Well,  sir,"  continued  Mr.  Adams, 
"then  let  him  resign,  and  we  may  possibly 
discover  some  way  by  which  we  can  get 
along,  without  the  aid  of  his  all-powerful 
talent,  learning,  and  genius.  If  we  cannot 
organize  in  any  other  way — if  this  clerk 
of  yours  will  not  consent  to  our  discharg 
ing  the  trusts  confided  to  us  by  our  con 
stituents,  then  let  us  imitate  the  example 
of  the  Virginia  House  of  Burgesses,  which, 
when  the  colonial  governor,  Dinwiddie, 
ordered  it  to  disperse,  refused  to  obey  the 
imperious  and  insulting  mandate,  and,  like 


The  multitude  could  not  contain  or 
repress  their  enthusiasm  any  longer,  but 
saluted  the  eloquent  and  indignant  speaker, 
and  intercepted  him  with  loud  and  deaf 
ening  cheers,  which  seemed  to  shake  the 
capitol  to  its  center.  The  very  Genii  of 
applause  and  enthusiasm  seemed  to  float 
in  the  atmosphere  of  the  hall,  and  every 
heart  expanded  with  indescribable  pride 
and  exultation.  The  turmoil,  the  dark 
ness,  the  very  chaos  of  anarchy,  which  had 
for  successive  days,  pervaded  the  American 
congress,  was  dispelled  by  the  magic,  the 
talismanic  eloquence  of  a  single  man  ;  and, 


once  more,  the  wheels  of  government  and 
of  legislation  were  put  in  motion. 

Having,  by  this  powerful  appeal,  brought 
the  yet  unorganized  assembly  to  a  percep 
tion  of  its  real  position,  he  submitted  a 
motion  requiring  the  acting  clerk  to  pro 
ceed  in  calling  the  roll.  This  and  similar 
motions  had  already  been  made  by  other 
members.  The  difficulty,  indeed,  was  just 
this,  that  the  clerk  declined  to  entertain 
them.  Accordingly,  Mr.  Adams  was 
immediate!}'  interrupted  by  a  burst  of 
voices  demanding,  "  How  shall  the  ques 
tion  be  put  ?  "  "  Who  will  put  the  ques 
tion  ? "  The  voice  of  Mr.  Adams  was 
heard  above  all  the  tumult,  "/  intend  to 
put  the  question  myself!"  That  word 
brought  order  out  of  chaos.  There  was 
the  master  mind. 

As  soon  as  the  multitude  had  recovered 
itself,  and  the  excitement  of  long  and  loud 
resounding  plaudits  had  abated,  Mr. 
Richard  Barnwell  Rhett,  of  South  Caro 
lina,  leaped  upon  one  of  the  desks,  waved 
his  hand,  and  exclaimed : 

"I  move  that  the  Honorable  John 
Quincy  Adams  take  the  chair  of  the 
speaker  of  this  house,  and  officiate  as  pre 
siding  officer,  till  the  house  be  organized 
by  the  election  of  its  constitutional  officers ! 
As  many  as  are  agreed  to  this  will  say  ay ; 
those—  — " 

He  had  not  an  opportunity  to  complete 
the  sentence,  "  those  who  are  not  agreed 
will  say  iw," — for  one  universal,  deafen 
ing,  tremendous  ay,  responded  to  the 
nomination. 

Hereupon,  it  was  moved  and  ordered 
that  Hons.  Lewis  Williams,  of  North 
Carolina,  and  Richard  Barnwell  Rhett, 
conduct  John  Qnincy  Adams  to  the  chair. 
And  well  did  Mr.  Wise,  of  Virginia,  say 
to  him  : 

"  Sir,  I  regard  it  as  the  proudest  hour 
of  your  life  ;  and  if,  when  you  shall  be 
gathered  to  your  fathers,  I  were  asked  to 
select  the  words  which,  in  my  judgment, 
are  best  calculated  to  give  at  once  the 
character  of  the  man,  I  would  inscribe 
upon  your  tomb  this  sentence  :  /  intend 
to  put  the  question  myself" 


372 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1770-1876. 


The  brave  old  man  lived  not  only  to 
see  the  odious  ''gag  rule''  rescinded,  but  to 
listen  to  that  magnificent  speech  from  one 
of  his  colleagues,  J)r.  Palfrey,  on  the 
"  inalienable  rights  of  man,"  at  the  con 
clusion  of  which,  Mr.  Adams  characteris 
tically  exclaimed,  "God  be  praised;  the 
seals  are  broken  ;  the  door  is  open  !  " 

Dying  in  his  country's  capitol,  in  the 
midst  of  his  public  duties,  in  February, 
1848,  his  illustrious  career  shone  brightly 
to  the  end.  As  secretary  of  state  under 
Mr.  Monroe,  and  subsequently  as  presi 


dent,  his  cabinet  and  other  political  asso 
ciates  consisted  of  such  eminent  statesmen 
as  Crawford,  Shelby,  Crowninshield, 
Thompson,  Southard,  Meigs,  McLean, 
Rush,  Wirt,  Barbour,  Porter,  Van  Renssel- 
aer ;  nor  was  his  political  ability  hardly  less 
appreciated  by  those  master  leaders  in  the 
ranks  of  his  opponents.  A  whole  nation 
deplored  the  loss  and  united  in  rendering 
homage  to  the  memory  of  the  fearless 
"champion  of  the  right  of  petition.''  His 
successor  in  congress  was  Hon.  Horace 
Mann,  a  kindred  spirit. 


XLI. 

PASSAGE    OF    BENTON'S    FAMOUS    "EXPUNGING    RESO 
LUTION,"   IN  THE  U.  S.  SENATE,  AFTER  A  THREE 
YEARS    PARLIAMENTARY   STRUGGLE.— 1837. 


Vindication  of  President  Jackson  Against  the  Condemnatory  Sentence  Passed  by  that  Body  in  1834, 
for  his  Removal  of  the  Government  Deposites. — Strong  Black  Lines  are  Drawn  Around  Said  Sen 
tence,  by  the  Secretary,  in  the  Presence  of  the  Senate  and  of  a  Vast  and  Tumultuous  Crowd,  at  Mid 
night — Opposition  to  the  United  States  Bank. — Jackson's  Message  Against  It. — Public  Opinion 
Divided. — Congress  Grants  a  Charter. — Presidential  Veto  of  this  Bill. — Jackson  Denounces  the 
Bank. — Declares  it  to  be  Corrupt. — Orders  the  United  States  Funds  Removed. — Secretary  Duane 
Declines  to  Act. — Taney  Succeeds  Him  and  Obeys. — Fierce  Conflict  in  Congress. — Weeks  of  Stormy 
Debate. — Proposed  Censure  of  Jackson. — Resolution  to  this  Effect  Passed. — Benton's  Motion  to 
Expunge. — He  Follows  it  up  Unceasingly. — His  Consummate  Tact. — Approach  of  the  Decisive 
Hour. — Excited  Crowds  Pour  In. — Triumph  of  the  Master  Spirit. — Execution  of  the  Resolve. — 
Strange  and  Impressive  Scene. 


"  No  power  on  earth— so  help  me  God  !— shall  control  the  key  to  the  Nation's  funds,  but  the  United  States  Government  itself."— PRESI 
DENT  JACKSON. 


0  remark  concerning  the  celebrated  parlia 
mentary  feat  accomplished  in  the  passage 
of  the  "Expunging  Resolution,"  by  the 
United  States  Senate,  could  more  appro 
priately  describe  the  chief  actor  in  that 
proceeding,  than  the  pregnant  sentence 
written  by  Senator  Benton's  biographer, 
namely,  that  as  an  exhibition  of  many 
especial  traits  of  that  senator's  character — 
persistency,  keen  and  sagacious  insight, 
stubborn  devotion  to  the  fame  of  his  party 
chief,  unquailing  courage,  and  confidence  of 
success  against  any  and  all  odds, — no  act  of  his  life  was  more  striking.  As  is  very 
well  known,  the  mover  in  this  exciting  measure,  Senator  Benton,  naturally  made  him 
self  peculiarly  obnoxious  to  his  political  opponents,  but  he  finally  achieved  success, 
and  gained  a  great  personal  triumph.  The  motion  was,  to  strike  from  the  journals  of 
the  senate  a  resolution  of  censure  passed  upon  General  Jackson,  March  twenty-eighth, 
1834,  during  the  second  term  of  his  presidency,  and  the  passion  of  partisans  clothed 
the  contest  with  a  violence  which  shook  the  whole  country. 

The  history  of  this  remarkable  and  deeply  interesting  affair  runs  as  follows  :     In  his 
message  to  congress,  President  Jackson  expressed  an  opinion  against  renewing  the 


SAFE  PLACE  FOB  THE   KEY  TO  THE   PUBLIC  FUNDS. 


374 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


charter  of  the  United  States  bank,  which 
would  expire  in  1836.  The  bank  had  not 
yet  formally  applied  for  such  renewal,  but, 
being  thus  pressed  upon  the  attention  of 
congress,  it  was  referred  to  the  committee 
on  linance  in  both  houses  for  examina 
tion;  and  on  the  thirtieth  of  April,  1830, 
Mr.  MeDufiie,  of  the  house,  made  a  report 
on  the  subject,  taking  ground  directly  at 
variance  with  the  views  of  the  president, 
arguing  that  Washington  sanctioned  and 
signed  its  original  charter,  that  it  had 
fulfilled  the  ends  for  which  it  was  estab 
lished,  and  that  expediency  and  a  regard 
for  the  public  interest  would  dictate  its 
continuance.  The  report  in  the  senate 
concurred  with  these  sentiments.  Such 
was  the  effect  produced  by  these  reports, 
that  the  shares  of  the  bank,  which,  under 
the  effect  of  the  message,  had  greatly 
fallen  in  value,  soon  reached  the  very 
highest  figure. 

As  early  as  1832,  a  memorial  was  pre 
sented  to  congress  by  the  president  and 
directors  of  the  bank  for  a  renewal  of  its 
charter.  Soon  after,  a  committee  was  ap 
pointed  to  investigate  the  proceedings  of 
the  bank.  A  majority  of  this  committee 
reported  against  the  hank,  principally 
on  the  ground  of  a  violation  of  its  char 
ter  by  illegal  transactions;  a  minority 
report,  however,  declared  that  the  affairs 
of  the  bank  had  been  administered  by  Mr. 
Kiddle  and  the  directors,  with  very  great 
ability,  and  with  perfect  fidelity  to  every 
obligation  ;  and  that,  being  an  institution 
indispensable  to  the  preservation  of  a 
sound  currency,  and  to  the  financial  opera 
tions  of  the  government,  its  downfall 
would  be  a  great  national  calamity. 

On  the  tenth  of  June,  the  senate  passed 
a  bill,  by  eight  majority,  favoring  the 
bank,  and,  shortly  after,  the  house  con 
curred  by  a  majority  of  twenty-two.  This 
bill  was  vetoed  by  the  president,  who  de 
clared  it  unauthorized  by  the  constitution, 
subversive  of  the  rights  of  the  states,  and 
dangerous  to  the  liberties  of  the  people. 
This  veto,  though  not  unexpected  to  the 
country,  was  bitterly  denounced  from  one 
end  of  the  Union  to  the  other,  as  an  act 


pregnant  with  fearful  and  appalling  woes. 
Such,  too,  was  the  political  complexion  of 
congress,  at  this  period,  tluut  it  was  impos 
sible  to  obtain  anything  like  the  two-thirds 
vote  requisite  to  pass  a  bill  over  the  presi 
dential  veto. 

The  conflict  of  opinion  in  regard  to  the 
bank, — an  institution  whose  existence  and 
operations  naturally  affected,  for  good  or 
ill,  every  branch  of  industry,  commerce, 
agriculture,  and  manufactures,  throughout 
the  country, — continued,  and  with  in 
creased  intensity.  All  kinds  of  business 
had,  by  means  of  the  vast  loans  so  freely 
obtained  from  the  bank,  in  larger  or 
smaller  sums,  by  speculators,  become 
greatly  inflated,  and  especially  was  this 
the  case  with  stocks.  Jackson,  viewing 
the  bank  as,  in  this  respect,  an  unhealthy 
corporation,  and  capable,  in  it.--  dispensa 
tion  of  favors,  of  being  a  dangerous  polit 
ical  engine,  determined  to  cripple  and 
crush  it,  and,  as  an  effectual  measure  to 
this  end,  he  planned  the  withdrawal  from 
the  bank,  of  those  funds  belonging  to  the 
government,  of  which  the  bank,  according 
to  its  charter,  was  the  legal  depository. 
During  the  recess  of  congress,  namely,  on 
the  eighteenth  of  September,  1833,  the 
president  read  to  the  cabinet  a  document 
advocating  and  advising  a  speedy  removal 
of  the  public  treasure  deposited  with  the 
United  States  bank, — this  treasure  consti 
tuting,  as  was  well  understood,  the  basis 
of  the  bank's  credit  and  operations. 

In  the  document  read  by  the  president, 
on  this  occasion,  he  begged  the  cabinet 
to  consider  the  measure  as  his  otr/i,  and 
in  support  of  which  he  should  require  no 
one  of  them  to  make  a  sacrifice  of  opinion 
or  principle.  Its  responsibility,  he  assured 
them,  had  been  assumed  by  him,  after  the 
most  mature  deliberation  and  reflection,  as 
necessary  to  preserve  the  morals  of  the 
people,  the  freedom  of  the  press,  and  the 
purity  of  the  elective  franchise.  Mr. 
Duane,  at  this  time  secretary  of  the 
treasury,  disapproved  of  the  proposed  re 
moval  of  the  deposites,  whereupon  he  was 
dismissed  from  that  position,  and  his  place 
supplied  by  Roger  B.  Taney,  who  at  once 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


375 


executed  the  presidential  order.  The 
president  emphatically  declared  :  "No 
power  on  earth — so  JieJp  me  God! — shall 
control  the  key  to  the  nation's  funds, 
but  the  United  States  government  itself  !  " 

Mr.  Clay's  indignant,  burning  eloquence, 
denunciatory  of  the  acts  of  the  executive, 
knew  no  bounds,  and  he  concluded  by 
offering  resolutions  of  censure  against  the 
president,  which,  after  a  most  stormy  de- 
bate, passed  the  senate,  in  a  slightly  altered 
form,  on  the  twenty-eighth  of  JIarch,  1834, 
namely  :  "  That  the  president,  in  the  late 
executive  proceedings  in  relation  to  the 
revenue,  has  assumed  upon  himself  au 
thority  and  power  not  conferred  by  the 
constitution  and  laws,  but  in  derogation  of 
both."  Against  this  resolution,  President 
Jackson  sent  in  a  long  and  severe  protest. 
To  this  the  senate  responded,  by  resolu 
tions  declaring  that  the  protest  was  a 
breach  of  the  privileges  of  the  senate,  and 
that  it  should  not  be  entered  upon  the 
journal.  The  house  of  representatives, 
however,  sustained  the  president,  in  his 
opposition  to  the  bank,  and  the  removal 
of  the  deposites.  Memorials  and  peti 
tions,  for  or  against  the  measures  of  the 
president,  flowed  in  from  all  quarters.  It 
was  considered  as  momentous  an  issue  as 
had  ever  agitated  the  land. 

The  president's  wrath  was  unmeasured, 
that  the  resolutions  of  censure,  in  sub 
stance  declaring  him  guilty  of  an  impeach- 
able  offense,  should  thus  be  spread  upon 
the  legislative  journal.  Mr.  Benton,  the 
most  powerful  friend  of  the  president, 
lost  no  time  in  giving  notice  of  his  inten 
tion  to  move  a  strong  measure  in  behalf 
of  the  president,  namely,  an  Expunging 
Resolution  against  the  sentence  of  cen 
sure  passed  and  recorded  by  the  senate, 
committing  himself  irrevocably  to  the 
prosecution  of  the  resolution,  until  he 
should  succeed  in  the  effort,  or  terminate 
his  political  life. 

In  support  of  the  president's  course,  and 
of  Mr.  Benton's  proposed  method  of  vin 
dication,  various  public  proceedings  were 
had  in  different  sections  of  the  country, 
and  some  of  the  state  legislatures  not 


only  voted  in  favor  of  the  removal  of  the 
record  of  censure,  but  instructed  their  con 
gressional  delegations  to  use  their  influence 
and  votes  in  a  similar  direction. 

Mr.  Benton's  resolutions  rehearsed  the 
principal  points  involved  in  the  past  his 
tory  and  present  aspects  of  the  contro 
versy,  quite  at  length,  the  closing  resolu 
tion  being  as  follows  :  "  That  the  said 
resolve  be  expunged  from  the  journal; 
and,  for  that  purpose,  that  the  secretary 
of  the  senate,  at  such  time  as  the  senate 
may  appoint,  shall  bring  the  manuscript 
journal  of  the  session  1833-34  into  the 
senate,  and,  in  the  presence  of  the  senate, 
draw  black  lines  round  the  said  resolve, 
and  write  across  the  face  thereof,  in  strong 
letters,  the  following  words  :  '  Expunged 


by  order  of   the  senate,  this  — —  day  of 

— ,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord .'" 

For  three  years,  successively,  did  Mr. 
Benton  bring  forward,  on  different  oc 
casions,  his  celebrated  motion,  and  again 
and  again  he  suffered  defeat,  after  the 
most  violent  and  scathing  debates  that 
ever  took  place  in  any  parliamentary  body, 
the  senate  at  this  time  containing  an 
unusual  amount  of  oratorical  talent  and 
forensic  power. 

But  the  last  scene — and  with  it  victory 
to  the  great  Missourian  and  his  presiden 
tial  master, — was  now  near  at  hand ;  and 


376 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


this  scene,  as  described,  mainly.  by  Mr. 
Benton  himself,  was  as  follows  :  Saturday, 
the  fourteenth  of  January,  the  democratic 
senators  agreed  to  have  a  meeting,  and  to 
take  their  linal  measures  for  passing  the 
expunging  resolution.  They  knew  they 
had  the  numbers ;  but  they  also  knew 
they  had  adversaries  to  grapple  with  to 
whom  might  be  applied  the  proud  motto 
of  Louis  the  Fourteenth:  "Not  an  un 
equal  match  for  numbers."  They  also 
knew  that  members  of  the  party  were  in 
the  process  of  separating  from  it,  and 
would  require  conciliating.  They  met  in 
the  night  at  the  then  famous  restaurant  of 
Boulanger,  giving  to  the  assemblage  the 
air  of  a  convivial  entertainment.  It  con 
tinued  till  midnight,  and  required  all  the 
moderation,  tact  and  skill  of  the  prime 
movers  to  obtain  and  maintain  the  union 
upon  details,  on  the  success  of  which  the 
fate  of  the  measure  depended.  The  men 
of  conciliation  were  to  be  the  efficient  men 
of  that  night ;  and  all  the  winning  re 
sources  of  Wright,  Allen  of  Ohio,  and 
Linn  of  Missouri,  were  put  into  requisi 
tion.  There  were  serious  differences  upon 
the  mode  of  expurgation,  while  agreed 
upon  the  thing;  and  finally  obliteration, 
the  favorite  of  the  mover,  was  given  np, 
and  the  mode  of  expurgation  adopted 
which  had  been  proposed  in  the  resolu 
tions  of  the  general  assembly  of  Virginia, 
namely,  to  inclose  the  obnoxious  sentence 
in  a  square  of  black  lines — an  oblong 
square  :  a  compromise  of  opinions  to  which 
the  mover  agreed  upon  condition  of  being 
allowed  to  compose  the  epitaph — "  AV- 
pniifjed  by  the  order  of  the  Senate."  The 
agreement  which  was  to  lead  to  victory 
was  then  adopted,  each  one  severally 
pledging  himself  to  it,  that  there  should 
should  be  no  adjournment  of  the  senate 
after  the  resolution  was  called  until  it 
was  passed;  and  that  it  should  be  called 
immediately  after  the  morning  business 
on  the  Monday  ensuing.  Expecting  a 
protracted  session,  extending  through  the 
day  and  night,  and  knowing  the  difficulty 
of  keeping  men  steady  to  their  work  and 
in  good  humor,  when  tired  and  hungry, 


the  mover  of  the  proceeding  took  care  to 
provide,  as  far  as  possible,  against  siu-h  a 
state  of  things;  and  gave  orders  that 
night  to  have  an  ample  supply  of  cold 
hams,  turkeys,  rounds  of  beef,  pickles, 
wines,  and  cups  of  hot  coffee,  ready  in  a, 
certain  committee  room  near  the  senate 
chamber  by  four  o'clock  on  the  afternoon! 
of  Monday. 

The  motion  to  take  up  the  subject  was 
made  at  the  appointed  time,  and  imme 
diately  a  debate  of  long  speeches,  chiefly 
on  the  other  side,  opened  itself  upon  the 
question. 

As  the  darkness  of  approaching  night 
came  on,  and  the  great  chandelier  was  lit 
up,  splendidly  illuminating  the  chamber, 
then  crowded  with  the  members  of  the 
house,  and  the  lobbies  and  galleries  filled 
to  their  utmost  capacity  with  visitors  and 
spectators,  the  scene  became  grand  and 
impressive.  A  few  spoke  on  the  side  of 
the  resolution — chiefly  Rives,  Buchanan, 
Niles — and,  with  an  air  of  ease  and  satisfac 
tion  that  bespoke  a  quiet  determination, 
and  a  consciousness  of  victory.  The  com 
mittee  room  was  resorted  to  in  parties  of 
four  and  six  at  a  time,  always  leaving 
enough  on  watch  ;  and  not  resorted  to  by 
one  side  alone.  The  opposition  were  in 
vited  to  a  full  participation — an  invitation 
of  which  those  who  were  able  to  maintain 
their  good  temper  readily  availed  them 
selves;  but  the  greater  part  were  not  in  a 
humor  to  eat  anything — especially  at  such 
a  feast. 

The  night  was  wearing  away  ;  the  ex- 
pungers  were  in  full  force — masters  of  the 
chamber — happy — and  vis'bly  determined 
to  remain.  It  became  evident  to  the 
great  opposition  leaders,  that  the  inevit 
able  hour  had  come  ;  that  the  '  damnable 
deed'  was  to  be  done  that  night;  and  that 
the  dignity  of  silence  was  no  longer  to 
them  a  tenable  position.  The  battle  was 
going  against  them,  and  they  must  go  into 
it,  without  being  able  to  re-establish  it. 
In  the  beginning,  the}'  had  not  considered 
the  expunging  movement  a  serious  pro 
ceeding;  as  it  advanced,  they  still  ex 
pected  it  to  miscarry  on  some  point ;  now, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


377 


the  reality  of  the  thing  stood  before  them, 
confronting  their  presence,  and  refusing 
to  "  down  "  at  any  command. 

Mr.  Calhoun  opposed  the  measure,  in  a 
speech  of  great  severity.  The  day  (said 
he)  is  gone  ;  night  approaches,  and  night 
is  suitable  to  the  dark  deed  we  meditate  ; 
there  is  a  sort  of  destiny  in  this  thing ; 
the  act  must  be  performed,  and  it  is  an 
act  which  will  tell  upon  the  political  his 
tory  of  this  country  forever. 

Mr.  Clay  indulged  in  unmeasured  de 
nunciation  of  the  whole  thing. 

The  last  speech  in  opposition  to  the 
measure  was  made  by  Mr.  Webster,  who 
employed  the  strongest  language  he  could 

:#3 


was  there.  Expectation,  and  determina 
tion  to  see  the  conclusion,  were  depicted 
upon  every  countenance.  It  was  evident 
there  was  to  be  no  adjournment  until  the 
vote  should  be  taken — until  the  deed  was 
done  ;  and  this  aspect  of  invincible  deter 
mination  had  its  effect  upon  the  ranks  of 
the  opposition.  They  began  to  falter 
under  a  useless  persistence,  for  they  alone 
now  did  the  speaking;  and  while  Mr. 
Webster  was  yet  reciting  his  protest,  two 
senators  from  the  opposition  side,  who  had 
been  best  able  to  maintain  their  equanim 
ity,  came  round  to  the  mover  of  the 
resolution,  and  said :  '  This  question  has 
degenerated  into  a  trial  of  nerves  and 


FAC-SIMILE  COPY  OF  THE  EXPUNGING  RESOLUTION. 


command,  condemnatory  of  an  act,  which, 
he  declared,  was  so  unconstitutional,  so 
derogatory  to  the  character  of  the  senate, 
and  marked  with  so  broad  an  impression  of 
compliance  with  power. 

But,  though  thus  pronounced  an  irregu 
lar  and  unconstitutional  proceeding,  by 
Mr.  Webster  and  the  other  senators  with 
whom  he  sided  and  voted,  Mr.  John 
Quincy  Adams,  who  was  at  the  time  a 
member  of  the  house,  and  in  direct  antag 
onism,  politically,  to  Mr.  Benton  and  to  the 
Jackson  administration,  held  a  different 
opinion. 

Midnight  (says  Mr.  Benton,  in  con 
tinuing  his  account,)  was  now  approach 
ing.  The  dense  masses  which  filled  every 
inch  of  room  in  the  lobbies  and  the  gal 
leries,  remained  immovable.  No  one 
went  out ;  no  one  could  get  in.  The  floor 
of  the  senate  was  crammed  with  privileged 
persons,  and  it  seemed  that  all  congress 


muscles.  It  has  become  a  question  of 
physical  endurance  ;  and  we  see  no  use  in 
wearing  ourselves  out  to  keep  off  for  a  few 
hours  longer  what  has  to  come  before  we 
separate.  We  see  that  you  are  able  and 
determined  to  carry  your  measure — so, 
call  the  vote  as  soon  as  you  please.  We 
shall  say  no  more.  Mr.  Webster  con 
cluded.  No  one  rose.  There  was  a  pause, 
a  dead  silence,  and  an  intense  feeling. 
Presently  the  silence  was  invaded  by  the 
single  word,  "question" — the  parliament- 
arjr  call  for  a  vote — rising  from  the  seats 
of  different  senators.  One  blank  in  the  re 
solve  remained  to  be  filled — the  date  of  its 
adoption.  It  was  done.  The  acting  presi 
dent  of  the  senate,  Mr.  King,  of  Alabama, 
then  directed  the  roll  to  be  called.  The 
yeas  and  nays  had  been  previously  ordered, 
and  proceeded  to  be  called  by  the  secretary 
of  the  senate,  the  result  showing  a  majority 
of  five  on  the  side  of  the  expungers. 


378 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1S76. 


The  passage  of  the  resolution  was  an 
nounced  from  the  chair.  .Mr.  J!enton  rose, 
and  said  that  nothing  now  remained  hut 
to  execute  the  order  of  the  senate,  which  lie 
moved  be  done  forthwith.  It  was  ordered 
accordingly.  The  secretary  thereupon  pro 
duced  the  original  manuscript  journal  of 
the  senate,  and  opening  at  the  page  which 
contained  the  condemnatory  sentence  of 
March  twenty-eighth,  IS.'U,  proceeded  in 
open  senate  to  draw  a  square  of  broad 
black  lines  around  the  sentence,  and  to 
write  across  its  face  in  strong  letters 
these  words  : 

"Exi'UXGED  I'.V  ORDER  OF  THK  SEN"- 
ATE,  THIS  IGril  DAY  OF  M.\K<'H,  1837." 

Up  to  this  moment,  the  crowd  in  the 
great  circular  gallery,  looking  down  upon 
the  senate,  though  sullen  and  menacing  in 
their  looks,  had  made  no  manifestation  of 
feeling.  Things  were  in  this  state  when 
the  secretary  of  the  senate  began  to  per 


form  the  expunging  process.  Instantly 
a  storm  of  hisses,  groans,  and  vociferations 
arose  from  the  left  wing  of  the  gallerv, 
over  the  head  of  Mr.  lientou.  Anticipat 
ing  the  possibility  of  violence,  some  of  the 
senator's  friends  had  gone  out  and  brought 
units  info  f/ia  /Kill.  No  use,  however,  was 
made  of  them,  the  mob  being  intimidated 
by  one  of  the  ringleaders  being  sei/.ed  by 
the  sergeant-at-arms  and  brought  to  the 
bar  of  the  senate  ;  and  the  expunging 
process  was  performed  in  quiet.  The 
gratification  of  General  Jackson  was  ex 
treme.  He  gave  a  grand  dinner  to  the 
expungers  and  their  wives;  being,  how 
ever,  too  weak  to  sit  at  the  table,  lie  only 
met  the  company,  placed  the  %  head  ex- 
punger'  in  the  chair,  and  withdrew  to  his 
sick  chamber.  That  expurgation  (re 
marks  Mr.  Benton,)  was  the  crowning 
glory  of  Jackson's  civil,  as  New  Orleans 
had  been  of  his  military,  life. 


XLII. 

MAGNIFICENT    AURORA    BOREALIS    ENCOMPASSING 

THE    WHOLE    FIRMAMENT    TO    ITS    FARTHEST 

BOUNDS.— 183T. 


A  Vast  Canopy  of  Gorgeous  Crimson  Flames  Encircles  the  Earth. — Arches  of  Eesplenclent  Auroral 
Glories  Span  the  Hemisphere — Innumerable  Scarlet  Columns  of  Dazzling  Beauty  Kise  from  the 
Horizon  to  the  Zenith. — The  Face  of  Nature  Everywhere  Appears,  to  an  Astonished  World,  as  if 
Dyed  in  Blood. — Uncommon  Extent  and  Sublimity  — Kemarkable  Duration  and  Aspects. — Intensely 
Luminous  Character. — Universal  Outburst  of  Luster. — Preceded  by  a  Fall  of  Snow. — First  Signs  of 
the  Phenomenon. — Exquisite  Rosy  Illumination  — The  Snow  Appears  Deep  Red. — A  Fiery  Vermil 
ion  Tinge  to  Nature  — Alarm  Produced  by  the  Scene. — Great  Moving  Pillar  of  Light. — Vivid  Stream 
ers  in  All  Directions. — Pure  White  and  Brilliant  Colors. — Contrast  of  the  Glowing  Tints. — Wide 
Fields  of  Rainbow  Hues. — Radiant  Beauty  Heaven-Wide  — Superlative  Pageant  of  Splendor. — Perfec 
tion  of  the  Stellar  Form. — Millions  of  Wondering  Observers. — Visible  Nearly  the  Whole  Night. — 
Accounts  from  Different  Points. — Europe's  Share  in  the  Display. 


" Depth,  height,  breadth. 

Are  lost  in  their  extremes;  and  where  to  count 
The  thick-sown  glories  in  these  fields  of  fire, 
Perhaps  a  seraph's  computation  fails." 


SINGULAR  FORM  OF  AURORAL  ARCH. 


'EARS  of  observation,  covering  many  cen- 
turies,  and  embracing  all  zones  and  lati 
tudes,  give  no  record  of  any  display  of 
auroral  glories  equal,  in  sublimity,  mag 
nificence,  and  extent,  to  the  aurora  borealis  of 
November  fourteenth,  1837.  Of  the  various 
accounts  of  this  phenomenon,  as  furnished  by 
observers  in  different  parts  of  the  land,  the  fol 
lowing  will  suffice  to  show  its  marvelous  beauty 
and  grandeur, — remarkable  for  its  amplitude,  its 
duration,  its  intense  luminosity,  and  the  brilliancy  of  its  colors.  Scientific  observations 
of  the  phenomenon  were  made  by  Professors  Barnard,  Herrick,  Twining,  Joslin,  Silli- 
man,  Gibbs.  Henry,  Dewey,  Redfield,  and  others,  and  these  were  republished  in  all 
parts  of  Europe,  attracting  universal  attention. 

The  city  of  New  Haven  had  been  visited,  during  the  day  of  the  fourteenth,  with  a 
moderate  storm  of  snow,  which  began  to  subside  between  the  hours  of  five  and  six  in 
the  evening.  The  heavens  continued,  however,  to  be  more  or  less  obscured  by  clouds 
during  the  entire  evening;  on  which  account,  the  splendors  of  the  aurora,  as  they  man 
ifested  themselves  to  observers  more  favorably  situated,  were  here  in  a  great  degree 
concealed.  The  veil  of  snow-clouds,  which,  at  sunset,  and  for  some  time  afterward, 
covered  the  sky,  was  nevertheless  exceedingly  thin ;  and  it  was  through  this,  and  even 


580 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


through  the  falling  snow  itself,  that  the 
first  visible  indications  of  the  presence  of 
an  aurora  were  discovered.  Though  the 
exact  time  at  which  the  phenomenon  com 
menced  could  not  be  known,  it  had  doubt 
less  been  in  progress  for  a  while,  before  the 
intensity  of  the  light  became  sufficient  to 
penetrate  the  screen.  The  first  evidence 
of  its  existence  consisted  in  a  strong  rosy 
illumination  of  the  entire  arch  of  the 
heavens. 

Of  this  appearance,  Professor  Olm stead, 
then  of  New  Haven,  says :  The  snow, 
which  at  sunset  had  covered  the  earth  and 
all  things  near  it,  with  a  mantle  of  the 
purest  white,  closed,  early  in  the  evening, 
with  a  most  curious  and  beautiful  pageant. 
About  six  o'clock,  while  the  sky  was  yet 
thick  with  falling  snow,  all  things  sud 
denly  appeared  as  if  dyed  in  blood.  The 
entire  atmosphere,  the  surface  of  the  earth, 
the  trees,  the  tops  of  the  houses,  and,  in 
short,  the  whole  face  of  nature,  were 
tinged  with  the  same  scarlet  hue.  The 
alarm  of  fire  was  given,  and  the  vigilant 
firemen  were  seen  parading  the  streets  in 
their  ghostly  uniform,  which,  assuming  the 
general  tint,  seemed  in  singular  keeping 
with  the  phenomenon.  The  light  was 
most  i;. tense  in  the  north-west  and  north 
east.  At  short  intervals  it  alternately 
increased  and  diminished  in  brightness, 
until,  at  half-past  six,  only  a  slight  tinge 
of  red  remained  on  the  sky.  On  account 
of  the  light  being  thus  transmitted  through 
the  snowy  medium  and  a  thin  veil  of  clouds, 
the  aurora  borealis  ivas  diffused  like  the 
light  of  an  astral  lamp,  covered  with  a 
red  shade  <jf  ground  glass.  That  the 
stratum  of  clouds  was  very  thin,  was 
inferred  from  the  fact,  that,  before  half- 
past  six,  a  few  stars  were  discernible  as 
when  seen  through  a  fog;  and  such  was 
the  appearance  of  the  moon,  which  rose 
about  the  same  time.  Within  ten  minutes 
from  the  time  the  heavens  began  to  assume 
their  fiery  appearance,  the  whole  clouded 
hemisphere  shone  with  that  marvelously 
brilliant  light,  which,  reflected  in  rosy 
tints  by  the  snow  on  the  ground,  produced 
a  scene  indescribably  gorgeous.  To  some 


observers,  the  auroral  flush  seemed  to  over 
spread  all  parts  of  the  sky  almost  simul 
taneously. 

East  of  New  Haven,  the  storm  was  more 
protracted.  At  New  London,  the  snow 
was  falling  copiously,  and  continued  so, 
unabatedly,  during  the  whole  evening. 
But,  notwithstanding  the  storm,  the  heav 
ens  seemed  as  if  they  were  on  lire, — a 
lurid  light  on  all  sides,  from  the  zenith  to 
the  horizon,  casting  a  most  vulcanean  hue 
on  the  fallen  snow.  The  light  seemed  the 
same  in  eveiy  portion  of  the  firmament, 
but  without  any  apparent  cause. 

In  the  city  of  New  Y'ork,  the  display, 
as  witnessed  from  an  eminence  which  com 
manded  an  unobstructed  view  of  the  hori 
zon  in  every  direction,  was,  in  the  latter 
part  of  the  evening,  magnificent  beyond 
description.  At  about  a  quarter  before 
six,  the  attention  of  observers  was  at 
tracted  by  a  most  unusual  appearance  of 
the  heavens.  The  sky  was  wholly  over 
cast,  as  in  New  Haven,  at  the  same  hour;, 
though  the  cloud  was  not  sufficiently 
dense,  absolutely  to  obscure  all  the  stars, 
of  which  quite  a  number  were  seen  from 
time  to  time,  faintly  glimmering  through. 
At  the  time  of  the  first  observation,  the 
whole  heaven  was  suffused  with  a  lovely 
carnation,  brightest,  apparently,  at  the 
commencement  in  the  zenith,  but  soon 
afterward  rather  toward  the  north-east. 
This  tint,  reflected  on  the  snow,  clothed 
all  nature  with  a  red-tinted  garniture,  of 
supernal  beauty.  It  gradually  faded, 
though  at  the  end  of  an  hour  it  was  still 
slightly  perceptible.  The  sky  then  rap 
idly  cleared,  and  all  traces  of  the  aurora 
passed  away. 

But  at  about  half-past  seven,  the  north 
and  east  being  still  overcast,  and  some 
stratified  clouds  •  extending  themselves 
along  the  horizon  around  toward  the  west, 
a  brightness  began  to  appear  in  the  north 
west,  which,  in  a  very  short  time,  extended 
itself  upward  forty-five  degrees,  in  a  col 
umn  of  diffused  light,  quite  broad  at  the 
base,  and  tapering  to  a  point.  This  col 
umn  moved  very  slowly  southward,  and  at 
length  became  divided  into  two  of  similar 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


381 


MAGNIFICENT  AURORA  BOREALIS  OF  NOVEMBER  13  AND  14,  1837. 


character.  But  in  the  meantime,  in  all 
the  north,  and  especially  in  the  north-west, 
numerous  streamers  began  to  make  their 
appearance.  They  became  faintly  red  at 
the  height  of  about  thirty  degrees,  and  the 
redness  of  the  whole  blended  itself  into  one 
general  cloud,  while  the  columns  continued 
distinct  and  white  below.  The  changes 
were  rapid,  but  the  red  tint  covered  the 
heavens  nearly  to  the  zenith  for  a  long 
time.  The  moon,  emerging  from  the 
clouds,  a  little  before  eight,  detracted 
from  the  brightness  of  the  display.  The 
whole  subsided,  or  nearly  so,  shortly  after 
eight,  and  observations  were  discontinued. 
A  few  minutes  before  nine,  however, 
the  community  was  summoned  to  witness 
a  new  exhibition  of  auroral  wonders,  the 
lustrous  grandeur  of  which  no  tongue  could 
tell,  nor  pen  portray.  The  heavens  were 
at  this  time  wholly  unclouded,  with  the 
exception  of  a  single  very  small  and  faint 
cirrus  higb  in  the  north-west.  Innumer 
able  bright  arches  shot  up  from  the  whole 
northern  semi-circle  of  the  horizon,  and 
from  even  farther  south,  all  converging  to 
the  zenith  with  great  rapidity.  Their 
upper  extremities  were  of  the  most  bril 


liant  scarlet,  while  below  they  were  ex 
ceedingly  white.  At  the  formation  of  the 
corona,  the  appearance  of  the  columns 
below,  which  were  very  numerous  and 
bright,  resembled  that  of  bright  cotton  of 
long  fiber,  drawn  out  at  full  length.  The 
intermingled  hues  afforded  each  other  a 
mutual  strong  relief,  and  exhibited  the 
most  dazzling  contrasts  ever  beheld.  The 
stellar  form  was  wonderfully  perfect  and 
regular.  Toward  the  west,  there  was  a 
sector  of  more  than  twenty  degrees  of 
unmingled  scarlet,  superlatively  beautiful. 

The  duration  of  this  display  was  quite 
remarkable.  For  three-quarters  of  an 
hour  after  its  formation,  which  took  place 
about  nine  o'clock,  the  corona  continued, 
with  variable  brightness,  to  maintain  its 
position  a  little  to  the  south  of  the  zenith. 
At  about  half-past  nine,  the  northern  col 
umns  had  become  disconnected  from  it, 
and  had  subsided  very  low,  the  heavens 
being  clear  between.  But  long  before  this, 
and,  indeed,  within  a  few  minutes  after 
nine,  the  south  was  as  completely  filled 
with  corresponding  columns  as  the  north. 

For  a  time,  therefore,  the  earth  was 
completely  overarched  by  a  perfect  canopy 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-187G. 


of  glory!  The  southern  columns,  which 
seemed  to  proceed  downward  from  the 
corona,  rested  on  an  arch  of  diffused  light, 
extending  in  a  great  circle  from  east  to 
west,  or  nearly  so,  and  being  about  twenty 
degrees,  or  a  little  more,  above  the  hori 
zon,  in  the  center.  All  below  the  arch 
was  of  the  strange  darkness  so  usual  at 
such  times  in  the  north.  The  southern 
columns  were  at  no  time  so  bright  as  the 
northern,  but  they  maintained  their  posi 
tion,  after  these  last  had  retired, — extend 
ing  still  from  the  corona  to  the  arch  which 
formed  their  base.  The  appearance  was 
at  this  time  that  of  an  aurora  australis, 
and  this  continued  for  more  than  a  quarter 
of  an  hour.  Streamers,  for  a  while,  con 
tinued  to  shoot  up  irregularly  in  the  north, 
but  they  did  not  again  reach  the  zenith. 
By  half-past  ten,  all  evidence  of  the  phe 
nomenon  disappeared  from  the  heavens, 
and  the  hosts  of  charmed  observers  reluc 
tantly  abandoned  their  watch. 

In  the  western  part  of  New  York  state, 
the  exhibition  was  most  superb,  as  seen 
and  described  at  various  points  of  observa 
tion.  In  Buffalo  and  neighborhood,  the 
aurora  was  perceived  at  its  iirst  approach. 
At  about  quarter-past  five  o'clock,  the 
heavens  being  clear  in  the  north  and  for 
fifty  degrees  both  east  and  west  of  that 
point,  an  unusual  ruddy  appearance  was 
noticed.  This  soon  faded,  leaving  barely 
a  perceptible  tinge;  and  instantly,  when 
nearly  all  color  had  disappeared  elsewhere, 
a  space  of  some  fifteen  degrees  in  diame 
ter,  immediately  west  of  Cassiopeia  and 
Andromeda,  and  north  of  Pegasus,  was 
lighted  up  with  red,  of  a  particularly  deep 
hue.  This  was  entirely  disconnected,  on 
every  side,  from  any  auroral  light  or 
appearance  whatever,  and,  from  its  center, 
pencils  of  white  radiated  to  the  periphery 
on  every  side. 

After  this  appearance  had  continued 
some  five  minutes,  the  white  lines  disap 
peared,  and  the  whole  space  in  question 
assumed  a  uniform  red  color,  which  was 
almost  instantly  thereafter  extended,  in 
an  arch  of  the  same  width,  through  the 
zenith,  and  down  to  the  horizon  about 


sixty  degrees  west  of  north.  On  the  east, 
this  light  did  not  extend  itself;  and, 
during  the  whole  time,  the  clear  space 
existing  in  the  north  retained  its  usual 
color  and  appearance.  Deep  red  streams, 
penciled  with  white,  then  began  to  appear 
and  fade  in  the  north,  but  without  the 
tremulous  motion  of  '  merrv  dancers.' 
Those  in  the  north-east  maintained  their 
brightness  longest. 

At  about  fifteen  minutes  before  six 
o'clock,  the  clouds  had  become  more  dense 
and  dark,  though  still  in  detached  masses, 
particularly  throughout  that  portion  of  the 
heavens  which  had  been  occupied  by  the 
red  arch  above  mentioned,  and  these 
isolated  clouds  now  assumed  an  appearance 
at  once  novel  and  striking.  Those  west 
of  the  zenith,  and  lying  within  the  track 
of  the  crimson  arch  already  described, 
suddenly  exhibited  the  most  vivid  red 
along  their  entire  southern  borders;  while 
the  like  clouds  east  of  the  zenith,  and  fol 
lowing  the  same  track,  and  prolonging  it 
quite  down  to  the  eastern  horizon,  assumed 
the  same  vivid  color  upon  their  northern 
borders;  no  other  portion,  however,  of 
these  clouds,  exhibited  any  of  the  charac 
teristics  of  auroral  light.  South  of  this 
line,  there  was  at  no  time  any  auroral 
light  whatever;  and  at  the  moment  in 
question,  there  was  very  little  in  any  other 
parts  of  the  heavens,  save  on  the  borders 
of  these  clouds.  At  nine  minutes  before 
six,  the  red  edgings  of  these  clouds  began 
to  fade,  and  immediately  a  wide  space  in 
the  north-east,  that  was  still  free  from 
clouds,  was  most  brilliantly  lighted  up. 
The  color  was  of  the  same  deep  red,  but  it 
did  not  extend  down  to  the  horizon  ;  and 
this  had  scarcely  continued  four  minutes, 
when  the  whole  region  north  of  the  zenith, 
to  within  about  eight  degrees  of  the  hori 
zon,  was  again  reddened  and  glowing — 
while,  beyond  these  limits,  either  north  or 
south,  no  vestige  of  the  aurora  was  visible. 
Just  two  minutes  before  six,  the  moon 
appeared  above  the  horizon,  and  as  it  was 
only  two  days  past  the  full,  its  beams  soon 
surpassed  in  brightness  those  of  the 
aurora. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


383 


In  Hudson,  Ohio,  at  the  Western 
Reserve  College,  some  of  the  earlier  dis 
plays  of  the  phenomenon  were  noticed  by 
Professor  Loomis.  This  was  some  five 
minutes  after  six,  when  lie  observed  that 
a  small  pile  of  light,  of  a  reddish  hue,  lay 
upon  the  horizon,  in  a  direction  a  little 
north  of  north-west,  and  a  similar  pile  in 
the  east  of  north-east.  Between  these 
there  was  a  low  faint  cloud,  bounded  by  a 
somewhat  ill-defined  arch,  rising  in  its 
center  about  ten  degrees  from  the  horizon. 
Above  this  arch,  a  diffused  light  streamed 
upward  toward  the  zenith,  in  one  or  two 
places,  being  somewhat  more  condensed, 
forming  beams.  This  light  increased 
rapidly  in  brightness  ;  it  became  of  a  more 
decided  crimson  color,  extended  up  to  the 
zenith,  and,  at  the  same  time,  light  began 
to  shoot  up  from  several  points  in  the  east, 
and  somewhat  south  of  east.  At  a  quarter- 
past  six,  meantime,  a  pretty  regular  arch 
was  formed,  extending  from  the  above- 
mentioned  pile  of  light  in  the  north-west. 
This  arch  was  rather  irregular  in  its  out 
line,  and  had  a  slightly  crimson  color.  In 
about  five  minutes,  another  arch  of  white 
light  partially  formed  in  the  southern  sky, 
and  had  nearly  the  same  direction  with 
the  preceding ;  but  this  arch  was  never 
complete,  and  soon  vanished  entirely.  The 
great  arch,  however,  before  described, 
brightened  up  again  in  very  nearly  the 
same  position  as  previously.  About  half- 
past  eight,  light  of  a  crimson  color  was 
observed  to  shoot  from  the  eastern  horizon 
toward  and  beyond  the  zenith,  nearly  in 
the  position  of  the  former  arch.  The 
heavens  were  now  nearly  covered  with  thin 
cirro-cumulus  clouds,  and  the  contrast  of 
the  ordinary  clouds  with  this  crimson 
auroral  light,  produced  a  very  singular 
effect.  The  sky  remained  cloudy  during 
the  night. 

Strange  though  it  may  appear,  this 
beautiful  and  magnificent  phenomenon 
was  visible  during  nearly  the  whole  night 
in  the  neighborhood  of  S^t.  Louis,  Mo., 
and  was  particularly  brilliant  between  the 
hours  of  twelve  and  one,  when  the  moon 
was  near  its  zenith.  Time  in  St.  Louis 


being  rather  more  than  one  hour  earlier 
than  in  New  York,  this  midnight  display 
was  contemporaneous  with  the  latest 
return  of  the  aurora  in  the  longitude  of 
New  York  ;  but  this,  which  was  the  least 
energetic  in  the  latter,  appears  there  to 
have  been  the  most  remarkable. 

The  commencement  of  the  phenomenon 
in  Philadelphia  was  similar  to  that  ob 
served  at  New  York.  At  a  later  period, 
the  lights  were  again  visible,  and,  between 
nine  and  ten  o'clock,  exceeded  in  extent 
and  brilliancy,  anything  of  the  kind  ever 
before  witnessed  in  that  region.  A  broad 
field  of  crimson  flame,  stretching  from 
nearly  a  western  course,  and  reaching  the 
eastern  hemisphere,  encompassed  the 
heavens  with  a  brilliant  glory,  of  indescrib 
able  beauty  and  magnificence,  hanging, 
as  it  were,  suspended  from  the  blue  vault 
above,  like  an  immense  curtain  over  the 
earth — while,  from  almost  every  point  of 
the  compass,  shot  up  rays  of  rich  and  gor 
geous  light,  spreading  and  intermingling 
with  a  wavy  tremulous  motion,  and  exhib 
iting  every  hue  of  the  clearest  rainbow. 
The  richness,  variety,  and  delicacy  of  the 
colors,  were  surprisingly  beautiful,  as  was 
their  prismatic  brilliancy.  The  sky  itself 
was  remarkably  clear  and  cloudless — and 
through  the  celestial  phenomena,  a  full 
moon  and  innumerable  stars  were,  all  the 
while,  distinctly  visible. 

In  Maryland,  according  to  the  observa 
tions  made  at  Emmettsburg,  the  first  indi 
cation  of  the  aurora's  approach  was  given 
as  soon  as  it  became  dark,  by  the  singular 
redness  of  the  cumulo-stratus  clouds,  now 
entirely  covering  the  sky.  Those  in  the 
north,  south,  east  and  west,  all  partook  of 
the  redness,  the  reflection  from  them  being 
strong  enough  to  give  a  red  tinge  to  the 
snow.  The  heaviest  clouds  retained  their 
dark  color  in  the  center,  but  they  were 
bordered  with  red.  During  the  hour  in 
which  this  state  of  things  existed,  there 
were  no  streamers,  streaks  of  light,  nor 
merry  dancers.  Indeed,  where  the  sky 
could  be  seen  between  the  clouds,  there 
were,  no  signs  of  an  aurora,  but  rather  a 
deep  green  sky.  By  seven,  the  moon 


384 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


' 


VIEW  OF  THE  AURORA  BOREALIS  IN   ITS  EAHI.Y  STAGES. 


being  risen,  and  the  clouds  having  van 
ished,  nothing  remained  to  show  that  there 
had  been  any  unusual  occurrence.  A  little 
after  nine,  however,  the  sky  being  per 
fectly  clear,  an  aurora  suddenly  sprang  up, 
which,  for  magnificence,  surpassed  any 
thing  of  the  kind  ever  before  witnessed  in 
that  section.  The  streamers  from  the 
east,  west,  and  north,  converged  a  few 
degrees  south  of  the  zenith,  forming  a 
beautiful  auroral  crown,  red  as  scarlet,  but 
intermingled  with  streaks  of  pale  light. 
There  were  no  merry  dancers,  but  all  the 
other  appearances  usually  witnessed  on 
such  occasions  were  noticed.  In  little 
more  than  half  an  hour,  the  grand  display 
was  over,  for  the  most  part. 

Observers  at  Annapolis,  Md.,  describe 
the  aurora  there  as  coming  on  in  waves, 
at  about  a  quarter  before  six.  and  return 
ing  at  seven,  at  eight,  and  at  nine.  The 
first  arch  was  formed  suddenly,  and  became 
vertical  in  a  very  few  minutes,  from  t In- 
first  appearance  of  the  columns  at  the 
north-west  and  south-east.  It  was  crim 
son,  traversed  by  white  pencils.  The 
color  of  the  light  at  eight  o'clock  was  not 
red,  but  dusky,  and  formed  from  the  north 


west  point  to  the  pole  star,  a  broad  column, 
which  kept  its  position  for  half  an  hour. 
A  succession  of  fine  cirrus  clouds  floated 
off  from  the  lower  parts  of  the  column  to 
the  south.  At  nine  o'clock,  the  recurrence 
of  the  crimson  light  was  more  in  patches, 
and  of  intense  brightness,  accompanied  by 
cirro-cumulus  clouds,  which  were  formed 
suddenly  over  the  whole  sky,  and  were 
borne  swiftly  to  the  east  by  the  wind. 

Near  Alexandria,  Va.,  the  earl}'  dis 
play,  as  seen  from  east  south-east  to 
west  south-west,  exhibited  a  rich  orange 
red  color,  extending  even  to  the  zenith, 
and  covering  all  the  heavens  north  of  these 
points.  The  return  occurred  toward  nine 
o'clock,  in  a  brilliant  and  fiery  form. 

The  appearance  of  the  aurora  in  .South 
Carolina  commenced  about  six  o'clock,  in 
the  shape  of  a  bank  or  store-house  of  auro 
ral  vapor  towards  the  north.  When  first 
observed,  a  space  of  about  fifteen  degrees 
above  the  horizon  was  strongly  marked  by 
a  pale  white  light,  above  which  the  crim 
son  hue  peculiar  to  this  phenomenon  began 
to  be  distinctly  visible.  At  this  time,  the 
greatest  degree  of  brightness  was  to  the 
east  of  north,  assuming  no  very  definite 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


385 


form,  but  extending  about  eight  or  ten 
degrees  east,  and  reaching  in  height  to  the 
constellation  of  Cassiopeia's  chair,  the 
lower  portion  of  which  was  enveloped  in 
its  reddening  glow.  The  action  then  sub 
sided  ;  but  at  about  eight  o'clock,  another 
bright  crimson  column  ascended  due  north, 
attaining  an  altitude  some  degrees  greater 
than  that  of  the  polar  star,  and  maintaining 
its  place  about  half  an  hour.  After  this 
had  faded  away,  no  return  was  observed 
until  half-past  nine,  when  there  was  per 
ceived  another  broad  arch  of  crimson  light, 
ascending  several  degrees  to  the  west  of 
north. 

In  certain  sections  of  Georgia,  the  phe 
nomenon  commenced  a  little  after  dark. 
The  sky  a  little  to  the  north  of  the  star 
Capella,  began  to  appear  luminous,  and  a 
luminous  arch  was  soon  formed,  of  about 
six  or  eight  degrees  in  breadth,  and 
extending  over  to  the  north-western  hori 
zon,  having  the  pole  star  in  its  highest 
point.  Soon  after  the  arch  was  formed, 
that  part  of  it  in  the  north-east  horizon 
became  much  brighter,  and  somewhat 
broader  than  the  rest ;  and  this  luminous 
portion  gradually  rose,  and  passed  on  in 
the  arch,  its  densest  part  culminating  a 
little  below  the  north  star.  It  continued 
its  motion  to  the  western  horizon. 

An  hour  and  a  half  was  occupied  by  the 
passage  of  the  luminous  part  of  the  arch 
just  described.  It  became  somewhat 
fainter,  after  it  had  passed  the  meridian, 
and  it  gradually  was  lost  to  sight,  begin 
ning  first  to  disappear  in  the  east,  so  that 
not  a  vestige  remained  at  nine  o'clock, 


three  hours  from  its  first  appearance.  The 
color  of  the  arch  was  that  of  light  scarlet, 
the  most  luminous  part  being  a  little 
darker,  and  much  more  intense.  Its  form 
was  that  of  a  semi-circle,  having  for  its 
base  about  sixty  degrees  of  the  horizon. 
It  differed  from  the  aurora  in  its  regular 
outline,  as  well  as  its  regular  motion  from 
east  to  west,  and  was  witnessed  with  admir 
ation  and  astonishment. 

So  extensive  was  this  magnificent  celes 
tial  phenomenon,  that  it  exhibited  its  won 
derful  splendors,  contemporaneously,  to 
the  inhabitants  of  Europe  and  America, 
though  the  presence  of  clouds  greatly 
interfered  with  the  attractiveness  and 
grandeur  of  the  exhibition  in  the  former. 
At  half-past  twelve,  however, — says  one  of 
the  observers  in  England, — a  patch  of  the 
most  intense  blood-red  colors  ever  seen, 
was  visible,  free  from  the  interposition  of 
clouds.  The  whole  of  the  sky  had  an 
awful  appearance  ;  for  the  tinge  of  red 
which  pervaded  the  whole  expanse, 
assumed,  in  many  points,  from  the  depth 
of  colors  above,  and  the  density  of  the 
clouds  below,  the  dark  copper  tint,  which 
is  seen  on  the  disk  of  the  moon  during  a 
lunar  eclipse.  It  was  such  a  sight  as  fills 
the  mind  with  wonder  and  awe  ;  and,  in 
America  at  least,  was  the  most  marvelous 
of  the  kind  ever  known ;  though  that  of 
August  and  September,  1859,  proved  but 
little  inferior  in  some  respects.  In  north 
ern  Europe,  this  phenomenon  is  quite 
frequent,  and  Mr.  Bayard  Taylor  describes 
one  of  rare  beauty  which  he  there  wit 
nessed. 


25 


XLIII. 

EXPLORING  EXPEDITION  TO  THE  SOUTH  POLE,  UNDER 

COMMAND   OF   CAPTAIN   CHARLES  WILKES, 

UNITED    STATES    NAVY.— 1838. 


First  Naval  Enterprise  of  the  Kind  Ever  Undertaken  by  the  American  Navy. — The  Squadron  Sails 
Ninety  Thousand  Miles  in  Four  Years. — Extent  and  Importance  of  the  Investigations. — Discovery 
of  the  Great  Antarctic  Continent —Other  Geographical,  Nautical,  and  Scientific  Results. — Selection 
of  Officers  and  Vessels. — A  Scientific  Corps  Organized. — Route  Prescribed  :  Seas  and  Lands. — 
Enthusiastic  Departure — Arrival  at  Terra  del  Fucgo. — Observations  at  Cape  Horn. — Excursion  to 
the  Cordilleras. — Ascent  of  a  Lofty  Peak. — Desolation  and  Silence. — New  Islands  Discovered. — 
An  Observatory  Established. — TUe  Samoan  Group  Examined. — Descent  into  an  Extinct  Volcano. — 
New  South  Wales  Visited. — Extreme  Southward  Cruise. — View  of  the  Ice-bound  Continent. — A 
Landing  Effected. — Account  of  this  Achievement. — Experiences  at  Feejee. — On  the  Summit  of 
Mauna-Loa. — Home\vanl  Bound  Tracks. — Safe  Arrival. 


"  The  primary  object  of  the  Expedition  U  to  promote  the  frreat  interests  of  Commerce  and  Nnopntion  ;  yet  you  ore  to  take  all  orcaciomi 
not  Incompatible  with  the  treat  purpotm  of  the  undertaking,  to  Extend  the  ilouuds  of  Science  and  fioinote  the  Acquisition  of  Knowledge." 
—  OFFICIAL  llfiTKUCTlOKt  TO  THE  E.XI-LUKKHS. 


UiETLY  raising  the  flag  of  his  gallant  little  squadron,  in  the  harbor 
of  Norfolk,  Va.,  on  the  eighteenth  of  August,  1838,  the  intrepid 
Wilkes,  as  commander  of  the  first  maritime  exploring  expedition  ever 
undertaken  by  the  United  States  government,  set  sail  on  that  voyage 
of  discovery  to  the  far  southern  ocean  and  the  mysterious  south  pole,  which,  occupying 
four  years,  sailed  ninety  thousand  miles,  nearly  t\vo  thousand  of  which  were  along  the 
coast  of  a  great  Antarctic  Continent  never  before  seen  by  civilized  man,  and  which  was 
first  discovered  by  Wilkes  from  the  one  hundred  and  fifty-eighth  degree  of  east  longi 
tude  ; — one  of  the  numerous  splendid  scientific  results  of  this  grand  national  expedition 
The  enterprise  received  its  official  programme  from  Hon.  James  K.  Paulding,  secretary 
of  the  navy  under  President  Van  Buren  ;  and,  though  it  was  at  first  organized  under 
Commodore  Thomas  Ap  Catesby  Jones,  he  subsequently  resigned. 

This  expedition  will  always  be  memorable  in  the  history  of  the  nation,  from  its  being 
the  first  fitted  out  by  the  United  States  for  scientific  objects;  for,  although  its 
primary  design  was  the  promotion  of  the  great  interests  of  commerce  and  navigation, 
yet  its  conductors  were  explicitly  directed  to  take  all  occasions,  not  incompatible  with 
the  great  purpose  of  their  undertaking,  to  extend  the  bounds  of  science,  and  promote 
the  acquisition  of  knowledge. 

Some  of  the  specific  matters  to  which  the  attention  of  the  expedition  was  par 
ticularly  called,  in  the  official  instructions,  were  as  follows  :  The  hydrography  and 


GREAT  AND  MEMOEABLE  EVENTS. 


387 


geography  of  the  various  seas  and  coun 
tries  visited  on  the  prescribed  route,  and 
all  the  researches  connected  with  them,  as 
well  as  with  astronomy,  terrestrial  mag 
netism,  and  meteorology,  were  confided 
exclusively  to  the  officers  of  the  navy, — 
the  government  expecting  such  results 
from  this  arrangement,  as  would  enable 
future  navigators  to  pass  over  the  track 
traversed  by  the  expedition,  without  fear 
and  without  danger. 

The  leading  members  of  the  scientific 
corps  were  Mr.  Hale,  philologist ;  Mr. 
Pickering,  and  Mr.  Peale,  naturalists  ;  Mr. 
Couthuoy,  conchologist ;  Mr.  Dana,  miner 
alogist  ;  Mr.  Rich,  botanist ;  Mr.  Drayton, 
and  Mr.  Agate,  draughtsmen ;  Mr.  Brack 
enridge,  horticulturist. 

Much  enthusiasm  and  anxiety  naturally 
prevailed,  011  the  signal  being  given  for 
the  squadron  to  sail.  The  vessels  compos 
ing  the  squadron,  were  the  sloop  of  war 
Yincennes,  the  flag-ship  of  the  comman 
der  of  the  expedition ;  the  sloop  of  war 
Peacock,  Lieutenant  William  L.  Hudson  ; 
the  brig  Porpoise,  Lieutenant  Cad\valader 
Ringgold ;  the  store-ship  Relief,  Lieu 
tenant  A.  K.  Long ;  and  the  tenders  Sea- 
Gull  and  Flying  Fish.  Every  confidence 
was  reposed  in  Commander  Wilkes,  who 
had  served  so  creditably  under  Commodores 
McDonough  and  Stewart. 

Keeping  the  direction  of  the  Gulf 
stream,  the  course  of  the  expedition  was 
towards  Madeira;  having  touched  there, 
they  stood  to  the  southward,  and,  on  the 
twenty-third  of  November,  stood  for  the 
magnificent  harbor  of  Rio  Janeiro.  The 
whole  squadron  then  sailed  by  the  way  of 
Rio  Negro  to  Orange  harbor  in  Terra  del 
Fuego.  The  natives  of  the  former,  with 
whom  the  explorers  came  in  contact,  had 
good  figures  and  pleasant  looking  coun 
tenances,  low  foreheads  and  high  cheek 
bones,  with  broad  faces,  the  lower  parts 
projecting;  their  hair  was  coarse  and  cut 
short  on  the  crown,  leaving  a  narrow  bor 
der  of  hair  hanging  down;  over  this  they 
wore  a  kind  of  cap  or  band  of  skin  or 
woolen  yarn.  The  front  teeth  of  all  of 
them  were  very  much  worn,  more  appar 


ent,  however,  in  the  old  than  in  the  young. 
On  one  foot  they  wore  a  rude  skin  sandal. 
Many  of  the  inhabitants  of  Terra  del 
Fuego  had  their  faces  painted  in  red  and 
black  stripes,  with  clay,  soot,  and  ashes. 
Their  whole  appearance,  together  with 
their  inflamed  and  sore  eyes,  was  filthy 
and  disgusting. 

The  Petcherai  Indians  were  found  to  go 
entirely  naked,  with  the  exception  of  a 
small  piece  of  seal-skin,  only  sufficient  to 
cover  one  shoulder,  and  which  was  gen 
erally  worn  on  the  side  from  which  the 
wind  blew,  affording  them  some  little 
shelter  from  its  piercing  influence.  They 
are  not  more  than  five  feet  high,  of 
a  light  copper  color,  which  is  much  con 
cealed  by  smut  and  dirt,  particularly  on 
their  faces,  which  they  mark  vertically 
with  charcoal.  They  have  short  faces, 
narrow  foreheads,  high  cheek-bones,  small 
and  very  black  e}res,  the  upper  eyelids  in 
the  inner  corner  overlapping  the  under 
one,  strongly  resembling  the  Chinese. 
Their  nose  is  broad  and  flat,  with  wide 
spread  nostrils,  mouth  large,  teeth  white 
and  regular.  The  whole  face  is  com 
pressed.  It  is  impossible  to  fancy  any 
thing  in  human  nature  more  filthy.  They 
are  an  ill-shapen,  ugly  race. 

On  its  cruise  to  the  south,  the  squadron 
experienced  the  usual  reception  at  Cape 
Horn — rough  and  stormy  weather.  In 
regard  to  the  best  mode  of  proceeding,  in 
making  the  passage  round  the  cape,  Cap 
tain  Wilkes  expresses  his  belief  that  as 
much  depends  upon  the  vessel,  and  the 
manner  in  which  she  is  navigated,  as  the 
route  pursued,  whether  the  cape  is  passed 
close  to,  or  given  a  wide  berth — the  ob 
ject  of  all  being  to  pass  it  as  quickly  as 
possible. 

Arriving  at  Valparaiso,  the  explorers 
established  an  observatory.  An  excursion 
to  the  Cordilleras,  by  the  scientific  corps, 
was  to  be  expected ;  but,  unfortunately, 
they  were  not  provided  with  the  requisite 
instruments  for  ascertaining  elevations. 
They  ascended  a  ridge  belonging  to  the 
main  body  of  the  Cordilleras,  and  at  the 
height  of  about  ten  thousand  feet,  they 


388 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


reached  the  summit.  Here  they  had  an 
extensive  view  of  all  the  line  of  the  snowy 
peaks.  That  of  Tupongati  appeared  the 
most  conspicuous,  although  at  a  distance 
of  eighty  miles.  Indeed,  the  guide  him 
self  asserted  that  he  could  see  smoke 
issuing  from  its  volcano  in  a  faint  streak, 
but  it  was  beyond  the  vision  of  the  rest 


of  the  party.  The  peak  itself  from  this 
view  of  it  was  quite  sharp-pointed.  The 
scene  immediately  around  the  explorers 
was  one  of  grandeur  and  desolation, — 
mountain  after  mountain,  separated  by 
immense  chasms,  to  the  depth  of  thousands 
of  feet,  and  the  sides  broken  in  the  most 
fantastic  forms  imaginable.  Nor  could 
anything  be  more  striking  or  impressive 
than  the  complete  silence  that  reigned 
everywhere  ;  not  a  living  thing  appeared 
to  their  view. 

From  Callao  the  squadron  passed  through 
the  Paumotu  group  to  Tahiti,  visiting 
islands  not  before  known,  the  ships  steer 
ing  for  the  island  of  Minerva,  or  Cler- 
mont  de  Tonnerre,  one  of  the  most  eastern 
of  that  'Cloud  of  Islands,'  as  the  name 
implies.  Visits  were  made  to  other  islets 
also,  and  their  inhabitants,  such  as  Wy- 
toohee,  Otooho,  Raraka,  Aratica,  and  the 
Arutua  or  Rurick  Islands ;  but  the  ac 


count  of  this  archipelago  is,  of  course, 
imperfect,  the  whole  number  of  coral 
islands  being  sixty-five.  Remark  is  mader 
however,  that  the  landing  on  a  coral  island 
effectually  does  away  with  all  precon 
ceived  notions  of  its  beauty,  and  any  pre 
vious  ideas  formed  in  its  favor  are  imme 
diately  put  to  flight.  The  verdure  con 
sists  of  mere  patches  of  wiry  grass, 
no  fruit  nor  flowers,  and  most  of  the 
trees  are  of  stunted  size. 

Record  is  made  of  the  discovery  of 
new  islands — namely,  King's  island,  so 
denominated  after  the  man  at  the  mast 
head  who  first  discovered  it ;  Tai-a-ra, 
situated  to  the  northward  and  west 
ward  and  nigh  to  Raraka,  which  was 
not  laid  down  on  any  charts ;  and 
Kawahe. 

Arriving  at  Tahiti,  the  explorers  lost 
no  time  in  commencing  operations.  An 
observatory,  furnished  with  both  as 
tronomic  and  magnetic  instruments, 
was  at  once  established,  and  parties 
sent  out  for  the  survey  of  the  princi 
pal  harbors  and  the  intervening  chan 
nels.  A  large  body  of  officers  and 
naturalists  were  also  sent  across  the 
islands  to  visit  Orohena,  one  of  the 
highest  peaks,  and  Lake  Waiherea. 
They  could  not,  however,  reach  the  de 
sired  spot,  but  some  days  afterwards  Cap 
tain  Hudson,  with  his  officers,  succeeded 
in  measuring  the  elevation  of  Aorai,  the 
peak  which  is  next  in  height  to  Orohena. 
This  was  found  to  be  about  seven  thousand 
feet ;  Orohena  appeared  to  be  some  fifteen 
hundred  feet  higher.  From  these  two- 
peaks,  ridges  descend  to  all  parts  of  the 
coast ;  they  are  precipitous  and  narrow  \ 
their  summit  being  often  a  mere  edge. 

Reaching  the  harbor  of  Papieti,  the 
commander  invited  the  great  chiefs  on 
board,  the  ship  being  dressed  for  the  oc 
casion,  and  every  mark  of  respect  being 
shown  them.  Luncheon  was  prepared, 
and,  when  the  guests  were  all  seated  at 
it,  such  a  collection  of  corpulent  persons 
was  rarely  if  ever  before  seen.  Previous 
to  eating,  one  of  the  chiefs  said  grace. 
They  seemed  heartily  to  enjoy  the  food 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


389 


and  the  occasion,  and  conducted  them 
selves  with  a  propriety  that  surprised  all 
on  board. 

It  having  been  determined  to  make  a 
thorough  examination  of  the  group  of  the 
Samoan  islands,  Tutulia,  as  the  most  cen 
tral,  was  selected  for  the  station.  The 
men  of  Tutulia  are  a  remarkably  tall,  fine- 
looking  set,  with  intelligent  and  pleasing 
countenances.  In  comparison  with  the 
Tahitians,  they  would  be  called  sedate. 
The  women  are  far  from  good-looking, 
with  the  exception  of  some  of  the  younger 
ones.  They  are  remarkably  domestic  and 
virtuous,  exhibiting  a  strange  contrast  to 
those  of  Tahiti. 

Messrs.  Dana  and  Couthuoy  visited  a 
lake  called  Lauto,  which  is  remarkable  for 
the  existence  of  an  extinct  volcano,  or 
crater.  The  edge  of  the  crater  was  found 
to  be  two  thousand  five  hundred  and 
seventy  feet  above  the  sea,  and  the  de 
scent  thence  to  the  water  of  the  lake  is 
one  hundred  and  twenty  feet.  These  gen 
tlemen  succeeded  in  obtaining  a  line  of 
soundings  across  the  lake,  by  cutting 
down  trees,  and  forming  a  raft  of  them. 
They  found  the  depth,  in  the  middle,  nine 
and  a  half  fathoms,  decreasing  thence 
gradually  in  all  directions  to  the  shore. 
The  form  of  the  lake  is  nearly  circular, 
and  it  has  a  subterranean  outlet.  The 
hill  in  which  this  crater  is  situated  is  coni 
cal,  and  there  is  a  low  knoll  at  some  dis 
tance  to  the  south  of  it,  which  is  the  only 
other  elevation  in  the  neighborhood,  above 
the  general  height  of  the  ridge.  The  bor 
der  of  the  crater  is  clothed  with  the  usual 
forest  foliage  of  these  islands,  which,  how 
ever,  exhibits  here  more  than  usual  beauty, 
being  decorated  with  finely-worked  fronds 
of  the  arborescent  ferns,  in  widely-spread 
stars,  and  the  graceful  mountain-palm 
plumes. 

In  the  different  jaunts  across  the  island, 
man}'  of  the  '  Devil's,'  or  unconverted, 
towns  were  visited.  At  the  town  of 
Siusinga,  the  chief  who  entertained  the 
party  was  a  priest  of  the  Gimblet  religion, 
a  new  faith,  of  singular  origin,  its  founder 
having  been  a  native  of  Savaii,  by  name 


Seeovedi,  who,  having  been  taken  from 
that  island  by  a  whaler,  received,  while  on 
board,  the  nickname  of  Joe  Gimblet. 
Embracing,  in  course  of  time,  the  Roman 
Catholic  faith,  and  possessing  withal  much 
shrewdness,  he  planned  to  found  a  sect  of 
his  own,  and  pretended  to  work  miracles. 
He  gained  many  proselytes ;  and  tlie  sect, 
in  case  of  sickness,  confess  their  sins  to 
one  another,  and  have  a  number  of  fast- 
days,  which  are  rigidly  kept.  Their  Sab 
bath  occurs  only  once  a  month,  and  is  cel 
ebrated  by  the  firing  of  guns,  and  the 
puerile  mummery  in  which  their  worship 
consists. 

After  having  surveyed  and  explored  the 
Samoan  group,  the  expedition  proceeded 
to  New  South  Wales.  The  natives  of  this 
country  are  described  as  a  proud,  high- 
tempered  race,  each  man  being  independ 
ent  of  his  neighbor,  owning  no  superior, 
and  exacting  no  deference ;  they  have  not 
in  their  language  any  word  signifying  a 
chief  or  superior,  nor  to  command  or  serve. 
Each  individual  is  the  source  of  his  own 
comforts,  and  the  artificer  of  his  own 
household  implements  and  weapons;  and 
but  for  the  love  of  companionship,  he 
might  live  with  his  family  apart  and 
isolated  from  the  rest,  without  sacrificing 
any  advantages  whatever.  They  have  an 
air  of  haughtiness  and  insolence  arising 
from  this  independence,  and  nothing  will 
induce  them  to  acknowledge  any  human 
being  as  their  superior,  or  to  show  any 
marks  of  respect.  They  also  appear  to 
have  a  consciousness  of  independence, 
which  causes  them,  on  all  occasions,  to 
treat  even  the  highest  with  equality. 
Their  skin  is  a  chocolate  color ;  their  noses 
are  not  flat,  nor  are  their  lips  thick ;  their 
teeth  white  and  even. 

Leaving  Sidney,  the  last  of  December, 
1839,  the  vessels  proceeded  separately  to 
the  southward,  when  all  reached  the  icy 
barrier,  and  three  of  them  were  rewarded 
ivith  a  sight  of  the  hitherto  unknown 
antarctic  continent,  —  a  discovery  which 
was  subsequently  confirmed  by  both 
French  and  English  authorities. 

According  to  the  narrative  of  the  explor- 


300 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1870. 


ers,  it  was  at  two  o'clock  on  the  morning 
of  February  thirteenth,  1840,  that  they 
made  sail  to  the  south-west,  in  order  to 
close  with  the  barrier,  which  they  found 


icebergs  of  tabular  form.  In  the  afternoon, 
the)r  saw  land  ahead,  and  stood  in  for  it, 
with  a  light  breeze  until  half-past  six, 
when  it  was  judged  to  be  ten  or  twelve 


retreated  in  that  direction,  and  gave  them 
every  prospect  of  getting  nearer  to  it. 
The  course,  for  the  most  part,  was  through 


miles  distant.  It  was  very  distinct,  and 
extended  from  west-south-west  to  south- 
south-east.  The  longitude  was  one  huu- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


391 


dred  and  six  degrees,  forty  minutes,  east; 
latitude,  sixty-five  degrees,  fifty-seven 
minutes,  south.  The  water  was  very 
green  ;  and,  though  sounded  to  three  hun 
dred  fathoms,  no  bottom  was  found.  The 
weather  having  an  unsettled  appearance, 
the  expedition  stood  off  to  seek  a  clearer 
space  for  the  night.  The  land  left  was 
high,  rounded,  and  covered  with  snow, 
resembling  that  first  discovered,  and  had 
the  appearance  of  being  bound  by  perpen 
dicular  icy  cliffs. 

At  daylight,  the  next  morning,  sail  was 
again  made  for  the  land,  the  vessels  beat 
ing  in  for  it  for  several  hours,  when  any 
further  progress  was  found  quite  impossi 
ble.  The  day  was  remarkably  clear,  and 
the  land  very  distinct, — judged  to  be  seven 
or  eight  miles  distant.  By  measurement, 
the  extent  of  the  coast  of  the  Antarctic 
Continent  then  in  sight,  was  made 
to  be  seventy-five  miles,  and,  by  ap 
proximate  measurement,  three  thousand 
feet  high.  It  was  entirely  covered  with 
snow.  On  running  in,  they  passed 
several  icebergs  greatly  discolored  with 
earth,  and  there  being  no  nearer  approach 
to  the  shore  possible,  it  was  determined 
to  land  on  the  largest  ice-island  access 
ible,  to  make  dip,  intensity,  and  variation 
observations. 

On  coming  up  to  the  island,  about  a 
mile  and  a  half  from  where  the  barrier 
had  previously  been  encountered,  the  ship 
was  hove  to,  the  boats  lowered,  and  a  land 
ing  fortunately  effected.  There  were 
found  imbedded  in  the  island,  in  places, 
boulders,  stones,  gravel,  sand,  and  mud  or 
clay.  The  larger  specimens  were  of  red 
sandstone  and  basalt.  No  signs  of  strati 
fication  were  to  be  seen  in  it,  but  it  was 
in  places  formed  of  icy  conglomerate,  com 
posed  of  large  pieces  of  rocks,  as  it  were 
frozen  together,  and  the  ice  was  extremely 
hard  and  flint-like.  The  largest  boulder 
imbedded  in  it  was  about  five  or  six  feet 
in  diameter,  but  could  not  be  reached, 
being  situated  under  the  shelf  of  the  ice 
berg.  Many  specimens  were  obtained,  the 
eagerness  and  desire  of  all  hands  to  pos 
sess  themselves  of  a  piece  of  the  Antarctic 


Continent  being  very  great.  These  pieces 
were  in  great  demand  during  the  remainder 
of  the  cruise. 

In  the  center  of  this  iceberg  was  found 
a  pond  of  most  delicious  water,  over  which 
was  a  surface  of  ice  about  ten  inches  thick. 
The  pond  was  three  feet  deep,  extending 
over  an  area  of  an  acre,  and  contained 
sufficient  water  for  half  a  dozen  ships. 
The  temperature  of  the  water  was  thirty- 
one  degrees.  This  island  had,  undoubt 
edly,  been  turned  partly  over,  and  had 
precisely  the  same  appearance  that  the 
icy  barrier  would  have  exhibited  if  it  had 
been  turned  bottom  up  and  subsequently 
much  worn  by  storms.  There  was  no- 
doubt  that  it  had  been  detached  from  the 
land,  which  was  about  eight  miles  distant- 
The  icebergs  found  along  the  coast  afloat 
were  from  a  quarter  of  a  mile  to  five  miles 
in  length ;  their  separation  from  the  land 
may  be  effected  by  severe  frost  rending 
them  asunder,  after  which  the  violent  and 
frequent  storms  may  be  considered  a  suffi 
cient  cause  to  overcome  the  attraction 
which  holds  them  to  the  parent  mass.  In 
their  next  stage  they  exhibit  the  process 
of  decay,  being  found  fifty  or  sixty  miles 
from  the  land,  and  for  the  most  part  with 
their  surfaces  inclined  at  a  considerable 
angle  to  the  horizon.  This  is  caused  by 
a  change  in  the  position  of  the  center  of 
gravity,  arising  from  the  abrading  action 
of  the  waves. 

Proceeding  to  New  Zealand,  the  expedi 
tion  went  thence  to  the  Feejee  islands, 
exploring  the  same  very  thoroughly. 
Most  of  the  harbors  in  the  Feejee  group 
are  described  as  mere  indentations  in  the 
coast  outline,  protected  by  the  encircling 
reefs  of  coral.  Probably  the  best  of  them 
all  is  that  of  Levuka,  on  the  east  side  of 
Ovolau,  which  is  safe  and  easy  of  access 
for  vessels  of  the  largest  class.  The  town 
is  located  in  the  midst  of  a  grove  of  bread 
fruits  and  cocoas,  whose  feathery  canopies 
afford  a  most  delightful  shade;  its  site  is 
a  beautiful  valley,  through  which  courses 
a  fine  stream  of  fresh  water,  opening  to 
the  ocean,  flanked  on  either  side  by  ver 
dant  hills,  and  rising  by  a  gradual  ascent 


392 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


to  the  lofty  peaks  of  basalt  that  bound  the 
view  to  the  west. 

The  entire  Feejee  group  comprises  one 
hundred  and  fifty-four  islands,  and  they 
are  covered  with  a  luxuriant  foliage  to 


WILKES'S  PARTY   DEALING  WITH  THE  SAVAGES. 

their  very  summits,  giving  them  a  singu 
larly  pleasing  and  picturesque  aspect.  The 
climate  is  very  fine,  the  soil  rich,  and 
vegetation  exceedingly  rapid.  The  natives 
are  a  barbarous  and  savage  race,  and  to 


their  cruelty  it  was  that  Lieutenant  Un 
derwood  and  Midshipman  Henry,  two  of 
the  most  promising  officers  of  the  expedi 
tion,  fell  mortal  victims,  while  on  shore  to 
obtain  provisions.  For  these  murders, 
prompt  vengeance  was  inflicted  by  Captain 
Wilkes. 

Captain  Wilkes  next  visited  the  Ha 
waiian  islands,  and,  in  the  course  of  his 
scientific  operations,  ascended  personally 
to  the  summit  of  Mauna-Loa,  and  there 
performed  the  difficult  and  important  feat 
of  measuring  the  pendulum.  This  moun 
tain  is  nearly  fourteen  thousand  feet  high, 
with  a  smooth  dome,  crowned  by  an 
immense  crater,  upwards  of  two  miles  in 
diameter. 

The  other  places  visited  by  the  expedi 
tion,  were  the  north-west  coast  of  America, 
and  the  Columbia  and  Sacramento 
rivers ;  they  then  explored  portions 
of    California,    and,    leaving    San 
Francisco  in  the  month  of  Novem 
ber,   1841,   went   on    a    cruise    to 
Manila,  Sooloo,  Borneo,  Singapore, 
and  the    Cape   of  Good  Hope,  re 
turning  home,  by  way  of  St.  He 
lena,  in  June,  1842,  after  an  ab 
sence  of   about  four  years.       The 
number  of  sketches  of  the  different 
places  visited,  made  by  the  artists 
on  board,  was  about  five  hundred, 
I  together  with  some   two  hundred 
portraits.       Thousands    of    speci 
mens  of  birds,  animals,  fishes,  rep 
tiles,  insects,  shells,  minerals,  etc., 
were   also   collected   and    brought 
home.      The  results  of  the  expedi 
tion  were,  in  a   word,    such   as    reflected 
the    highest    honor    upon    the    national 
government,  under  whose  auspices  it  was 
organized,  and    upon   the  gallant  officers 
and  men  to  whom  it  was  intrusted. 


>: 


XLIT. 

BREAKING  OUT  OF  THE  TEMPERANCE  REFORMA 
TION.— 1840. 


Origin,  Rapid  Spread,  Influence,  and  Wonderful  History  of  the  Movement. — Enthusiasm  Attending  the 
"  Wasliingtonian  "  Era. — Its  Pioneers  Rise  from  the  Gutter  to  the  Rostrum,  and  Sway  Multitudes  by 
their  Eloquence  — Father  Mathew's  Visit. — His  600,000  Converts. — Career  of  Hawkins,  Mitchell, 
Gough,  Dow,  and  Others. — First  Temperance  Society  in  the  United  States. — Singular  Terms  of 
Membership. — Social  Customs  in  Former  Times. — Unrestrained  Use  of  Spirits. — Growing  Desire  for 
Reform. — Influential  Men  Enlisted. — Meetings,  Societies,  Agitation. — A  Congressional  Organization. 
— Origin  of  "  Tee-Totalism." — Deacon  Giles's  Distillery. — "  My  Mother's  Gold  Ring." — Rise  of 
"  Washingtonianism." — Six  Reformed  Drunkards. — Cold  Water  Armies,  Processions,  etc. — Music, 
Banners  and  Badges — The  Country  All  Ablaze — An  "  Apostle  of  Temperance." — Administering  the 
Pledge. — Conflict  Concerning  Measures. — Anecdotes  of  Washington. — General  Taylor's  Whiskey 
Jug. — Farragut's  Substitute  for  Grog. 


"I  shall  not  close  this  letter  without  exhorting  you  to  refrain  from  spirituous  liquors;  they  will  prove  your  ruin  if  you  do  not.    Consider 
how  little  a  drunken  man  differs  from  a  beast;  the  latter  Is  not  endowed  with  reason,  the  former  deprives  himself  of  it." — GI.N ER.U.  WASH- 


(ERHAPS  it  would  be  difficult  to  name  the  precise  date  when 
active  public  efforts  were  initiated  in  the  United  States  to 
check  the  widespread  evil  of  intemperance.  It  is  not  to 
be  doubted,  however,  that  the  writings  of  that  eminent 
man  of  science,  Dr.  Benjamin  Rush,  of  Philadelphia, 
especially  his  "  Inquiry  into  the  Effects  of  Ardent  Spirits 
upon  the  Human  Body  and  Mind,"  issued  as  early  as  1804, 
did  much  to  awaken  an  interest  in  the  subject,  on  the  part 
of  the  community.  But  not  until  1808,  was  there  any 
movement  of  an  associated  character,  for  public  or  indi 
vidual  abandonment  of  the  use  of  intoxicating  drinks. 

But  it  sounds  somewhat  strangely,  in  these  later  days  of 
radical  reform,  that  the  initial  movement  referred  to,  and 
which  was  entitled  "  The  Temperate  Society  of  Moreau  and  Northumberland,"  (towns 
in  the  county  of  Saratoga,  N.  Y.)  originated  by  Billy  Clarke,  should  be  based  upon 
regulations  like  the  following  : — 

"No  member  shall  be  intoxicated,  under  penalty  of  fifty  cents.  No  member  shall 
drink  rum,  gin,  whiskey,  wine,  or  any  distilled  spirits,  or  compositions  of  the  same,  or 
any  of  them,  except  by  the  advice  of  a  physician,  or  in  case  of  actual  disease  (also 
excepting  wine  at  public  dinners),  under  penalt}' of  twenty-five  cents ;  provided  that 
this  article  shall  not  infringe  on  any  religious  ordinance.  No  member  shall  offer  any 
of  said  liquors  to  any  other  member,  or  urge  any  other  person  to  drink  thereof, 
under  penalty  of  twenty-five  cents  for  each  offense." 


EFFECT   OF   REFORMATION. 


394 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


But  the  clay  of  small  beginnings,  in  a 
humane  cause,  is  never  to  be  despised, 
and,  in  a  few  years,  the  reform  hud 
enlisted  the  earnest  co-operation  of  law 
yers,  divines,  and  other  eminent  men,  such 
as  Carey,  Palfrey,  Humphrey,  Dexter, 
Marsh,  Edwards,  Beecher,  Porter,  Leavitt, 
Hewit,  Day,  and  Kittredge.  In  1813, 
there  was  formed  the  Massachusetts  Soci 
ety  for  the  Suppression  of  Intemperance; 
one  in  Connecticut,  in  1829;  and,  in  1826, 
the  American  Temperance  Union.  The 
statistics  of  this  period  present  the  calcu 
lation,  that,  out  of  a  white  population  of 
ten  millions,  between  three  and  four  mil 
lions  were  habitual  spirit-drinkers,  of  whom 
three  hundred  and  seventy-five  thousand 
drank  daily  on  an  average  three  gills  of 
ardent  spirits,  while  an  equal  number  con 
sumed  more  than  twice  that  quantity,  and 
of  course  were  drunkards.  Making  due 
allowance  for  the  imperfectness  of  such 
statistical  data,  it  was  admitted  by  all, 
that  the  intemperate  use  of  spirituous  liq 
uors,  in  every  part  of  the  land,  had  become 
alarmingly  prevalent. 

The  excellent  resume  of  this  movement, 
as  given  by  Dr.  Emerson  Davis,  himself 
one  of  its  ablest  and  most  efficient  sup 
porters,  states  that  at  this  time  the  reform 
seemed  to  be  simultaneous  through  the 
country.  At  the  beginning  of  1828,  the 
custom,  hitherto  so  general,  of  treating 
visitors  with  wine,  cordials,  and  brandy, 
began  to  disappear.  The  sideboards  of 
the  rich  and  influential,  which  from  time 
immemorial  had  groaned  under  a  load  of 
decanters,  were  relieved  of  their  burdens, 
and  a  very  great  change  in  the  customs  of 
society  began  to  be  apparent.  At  the 
close  of  1828,  the  number  of  temperance 
societies  reported  in  the  temperance  jour 
nals  was  two  hundred  and  twenty-five. 
At  the  close  of  1820,  there  were  more 
than  one  thousand  such  societies,  embrac 
ing  more  than  one  hundred  thousand 
members,  pledged  to  total  abstinence; 
fifty  distilleries  had  stopped,  four  hun 
dred  merchants  had  abandoned  the  traffic, 
and  twelve  hundred  drunkards  had  been 
reclaimed.  On  the  first  of  May,  1831,  it 


appeared  that  more  than  three  hundred 
thousand  persons  had  signed  the  pledge, 
and  not  less  than  fifty  thousand  were  sup 
posed  to  have  been  saved  from  a  drunkard's 
grave.  Even  at  Washington,  a  congres 
sional  temperance  society  was  organized, 
under  the  auspices  of  such  men  as  Cass, 
Grundy,  Bates,  Wayne,  Post,  Durbin,  and 
others ;  and  some  of  the  most  brilliant 
public  men  signed  the  pledge. 

A  very  common  objection  (adds  Dr. 
Davis),  made  by  many  of  the  poor,  was, 
that  they  could  not  afford  to  drink  wine, 
and,  therefore,  that  signing  the  pledge 
operated  unequally;  it  took  from  them 
the  use  of  all  stimulants  but  cider  and 
beer,  but  it  left  to  the  rich  the  use  of  wine, 
which  was  often  about  as  strong  as  Cognac 
brandy.  In  order  to  obviate  this  objec 
tion,  it  was  found  necessary  to  introduce 
a  new  pledge,  prohibiting  the  use,  not 
only  of  distilled,  but  of  fermented,  liquors. 
The  first  society  that  adopted  this  pledge 
was  the  Eighth  Ward  Branch  of  the  New 
York  City  Temperance  Society.  This 
was  called  the  tee-total  pledge, — a  name 
first  given  to  it  in  England,  and  which 
had  its  origin  in  the  prolonged  and  inco 
herent  stuttering,  by  one  who  was  taking 
the  pledge,  at  the  first  letter  in  the  word 
'  total.'  This  tee-total  pledge  was  intro 
duced  into  this  country  in  1834,  and  in 
a  short  time  many  societies  were  formed 
on  that  principle.  Many,  however,  who 
signed  the  old  pledge,  refused  to  sign  the 
new  ;  and  thus  there  was  an  apparent  fall 
ing  off  in  the  number  of  the  members  of 
temperance  organizations.  Some,  too,  who 
had  delivered  public  addresses,  and  stood 
foremost  in  the  ranks  of  reformers,  were 
thrown  into  the  background,  and  became 
silent  spectators  of  passing  events. 

Among  the  prominent  promoters  of  the 
cause,  appear  the  names  of  Delavan,  Nor 
ton,  Keener,  Gerritt  Smith,  Moses  Grant, 
Loyd,  Collins,  Briggs,  Wai  worth,  Grundy, 
Hunt.  Stewart,  and  Hoar,  as  speakers. 
Mr.  L.  M.  Sargent  contributed  powerfully 
to  the  reform,  by  his  unrivaled  temper 
ance  tales,  including  that  widely  circulated 
and  admired  production,  "My  Mother's 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


395 


Gold  Ring."  Pierpont  inspired  thousands 
by  his  quaint  and  thrilling  poems;  and 
the  letters,  essays,  and  other  writings,  of 
such  men  as  Woodward,  Warren,  Baird, 
Beman,  Chapin,  Kirk,  Channing,  and 
Barnes,  added  greatly  to  the  impression 
upon  the  public  mind.  Among  the  inci 
dents  of  this  period,  perhaps  none  created 
greater  interest  and  excitement  through 
out  the  whole  land,  than  the  assault,  prose 
cution,  and  imprisonment,  of  Rev.  George 
B.  Cheever,  of  Salem,  Mass.,  subsequently 
of  New  York.  About  the  beginning  of 
1835,  he  published  in  a  Salem  newspaper, 
a  dream,  descriptive  of  "  Deacon  Giles's 
Distillery,"  in  which  the  liquors  were 
graphically  characterized  as  containing 
demons  in  an  inferno.  Deacon  Giles  was 
a  veritable  person,  and  the  publication 
resulted  in  a  violent  assault  upon  Mr. 
Cheever,  one  night,  by  the  foreman  of  the 
distillery,  who  inflicted  upon  the  unarmed 
clergyman  a  number  of  severe  blows  with 
a  raw  hide,  to  which  Mr.  Cheever  made  no 
resistance.  Mr.  Cheever  was  also  prose 
cuted  for  libel,  and  sentenced  to  thirty 
days'  imprisonment.  He  was  regarded  as 
a  martyr  to  the  cause  of  temperance,  and 
his  case  helped  rather  than  checked  the 
progress  of  the  reform.  He  continued  to 
do  valiant  service,  as  before,  with  his  pen 
and  voice,  ranking,  in  this  respect,  with 
such  men  as  Clarke,  Grimke,  Fisk,  Coffin, 
Woods,  Williams,  Merrill,  Sewall,  Pond, 
Thurston,  Reese,  Van  Loon,  Jewett,  Buck 
ingham. 

But  a  most  stirring  and  enthusiastic 
impetus  was  yet  to  be  given  to  the  temper 
ance  movement,  and  that  through  the 
humblest  personal  instrumentality.  This 
was  the  organization  of  the  Washington 
Temperance  Society,  in  Baltimore,  in  the 
month  of  April,  1840 ;  its  most  remarka 
ble  convert  being  Mr.  John  H.  W.  Haw 
kins,  who  joined  the  society  the  following 
June. 

It  appears  that  six  individuals,  who 
were  in  the  habit  of  associating  together, 
were  seated,  as  usual,  on  Friday  evening, 
April  2,  1840,  in  Chase's  tavern,  in  Lib 
erty  street,  Baltimore,  where  they  were 


accustomed  to  meet  almost  every  evening, 
for  the  purpose  of  enjoying  mutually  all 
the  benefits  and  conveniences  which  that 
establishment  and  each  other's  society 
could  possibly  afford.  These  were  Wil 
liam  K.  Mitchell,  tailor  ;  John  F.  Hoss, 
carpenter  ;  David  Anderson,  blacksmith  ; 
George  Steers,  blacksmith  ;  James  McCur- 
ley,  coach-maker ;  and  Archibald  Camp 
bell,  silver-plater.  A  clergyman  who  was 
preaching  in  the  city  at  that  time,  had 
given  public  notice  that  on  that  evening 
he  would  deliver  a  discourse  on  the  sub 
ject  of  temperance.  Upon  this  lecture, 
the  conversation  of  the  six  comrades  pres 
ently  turned ;  whereupon  it  was  agreed 
that  four  of  them  should  go  and  hear  it, 
and  report  accordingly.  So,  after  the  ser 
mon,  they  returned  and  conversed  on  its 
merits  for  some  time ;  when  one  of  the 
company  remarked,  '  After  all,  temperance 
is  a  good  thing.'  '  Oh,'  said  the  host, 
'  they're  all  a  parcel  of  hypocrites.'  '  Oh, 
yes,'  replied  McCurley,  '  I'll  be  bound  for 
you;  it's  your  interest  to  cry  them  down, 
anyhow.'  '/  tell  you  what,  boys,  let's 
form  a  society,  and  make  Bill  Mitchell 
president.''  '  Agreed,'  cried  they.  The 
idea  seemed  to  take  wonderfully,  and  the 
more  they  talked  and  laughed  over  the 
idea,  the  more  were  they  pleased  with  it. 

After  parting  that  night,  they  did  not 
all  meet  again  until  Sunday,  when  they 
took  a  stroll,  and,  between  walking  and 
treating,  they  managed  to  arrange  the 
whole  matter  to  their  entire  satisfaction. 
It  was  agreed  that  one  of  them  should 
draw  up  a  pledge,  and  that  the  whole 
party  should  sign  it  the  next  day.  Accord 
ingly,  on  Monday  morning,  Mitchell  wrote 
the  following  pledge:  'We  whose  names 
are  annexed,  desirous  of  forming  a  society 
for  our  mutual  benefit,  and  to  guard 
against  a  pernicious  practice,  which  is 
injurious  to  our  health,  standing,  and  fam 
ilies,  do  pledge  ourselves  as  gentlemen, 
that  we  will  not  drink  any  spirituous  or 
malt  liquors,  wine,  or  cider.' 

He  went  with  this,  at  about  nine  o'clock, 
to  Anderson's  house,  and  found  him  still 
in  bed,  sick  from  the  effects  of  his  Sunday 


396 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


ad  ventures.  He  arose,  however,  dressed 
himself,  and,  after  hearing  the  pledge  read, 
went  down  to  his  shop  with  his  friend  for 
pen  and  ink,  and  there  d  d  himself  the 
honor  of  being  the  first  man  to  sign. 
After  obtaining  the  names  of  the  remain 
ing  four,  the  worthy  president  finished 
this  noble  achievement  by  adding  his  own. 
On  the  evening  of  that  day,  they  met  at 
the  residence  of  one  of  their  number  and 
duly  formed  themselves  into  a  society,  with 
the  usual  officers.  Little  did  these  six 
associates  know  of  the  fame  and  achieve 
ments  they  were  moulding! 

Having  thus  got  under  way,  they  next 
turned  their  attention  to  obtaining  mem 
bers  and  devising  means  to  defray  the 
expenses  of  their  meetings ;  it  was  there 
fore  agreed  that  each  man  should  bring  a 
man,  and  every  one  should  pay  twenty-five 
cents  upon  becoming  a  member,  and 
twelve  and  a  half  cents,  monthly,  there 
after. 

The  next  debate  was  as  to  the  name 
they  should  give  to  their  society.  A  num 
ber  were  proposed,  among  them  that  of 
Jefferson;  when  it  was  finally  agreed  that 
the  president  and  secretary  should  be  a 
committee  to  draft  a  constitution,  and 
select  a  name.  This  they  did,  giving  to 
the  association  the  name  of  the  "  Wash 
ington  Temperance  Society,"  in  honor  ,.• 
of  the  Father  of  his  Country,  and  were  L 
consequently  known  as  Washlngtonians.  \ 
It  is  a  little  singular,  however,  that  this 
name  should  have  been  chosen,  for, 
though  Washington  was 
one  of  the  brightest  £ 
examples  of  temperate  | 
eating  and  drinking,  he  f 
habitually  used  liquor  J 
or  wine  himself,  and  J 
provided  it  for  his  1 
guests  and  laborers.  J 
The  following  curious  jj 
document  is  in  point: 

"  Articles   of  Agree-  J 
ment  made  this  tweluh 
day     of     April,    Anno 
Domini,    one    thousand  £ 
seven     hundred    and 


eighty-seven,  by  and  between  George 
Washington,  Esq.,  of  the  Parish  of  Truro, 
in  the  County  of  Fairfax,  State  of  Vir 
ginia,  on  the  one  part,  and  Philip  Hater, 
Gardener,  on  the  other.  Witness,  that 
the  said  Philip  Pater,  for  and  in 
consideration  of  the  covenants  herein 
hereafter  mentioned,  doth  promise  and 
agree  to  serve  the  said  George  Wash 
ington  for  the  term  of  one  year,  as  a 
Gardener,  and  that  he  will,  during  said 
time,  conduct  himself  soberly,  diligently 
and  honestly — that  lie  will  faithfully  and 
industriously  perform  all  and  every  part  of 
his  duty  as  a  gardener,  to  the  best  of  his 
knowledge  and  abilities,  and  that  he  will 
not,  at  any  time  suffer  himself  to  be  dis 
guised  with  liquor,  except  on  the  times 
hereafter  mentioned.  In  consideration  of 
these  things  being  well  and  truly  per 
formed  on  the  part  of  the  said  Philip 
Bater,  the  said  George  Washington  doth 
agree  to  allow  him  (the  said  Philip)  the 
same  kind  and  quantity  of  provisions  as  lie 
has  heretofore  had  ;  and  likewise,  annually, 
a  decent  suit  of  clothes,  befitting  a  man  in 
his  station  ;  to  consist  of  a  coat,  vest  and 
breeches; — a  working-jacket,  and  breeches 
of  home-spun  besides;  two  white  shirts; 
three  checked  do  ;  two  linnen  pocket-hand 
kerchiefs,  two  pair  linnen  overalls  ; — as 


SIGNING  THE   PLEDGE. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


397 


many  pair  of  shoes  as  are  actually  neces 
sary  for  him  ; — four  dollars  at  Christmas, 
with  ivhich  he  may  be  drunk  four  days 
and  four  nights  ;  two  dollars  at  Easter  to 
effect  the  same  purpose;  two  dollars  at 
Whitsuntide,  to  be  drunk  two  days; — a 
dram  in  the  morning  and  a  Drink  of  Grog 
at  Dinner  at  noon." 

The  above  is  signed  by  the  two  con 
tracting  parties,  and  witnessed  by  George 
A.  Washington  and  Tobias  Lear.  In 
another  instance,  Washington's  fine  in 
stincts  and  principles  are  admirably  dis 
played  : 

"  I  shall  not  close  this  letter,"  writes 
Washington  to  one  of  his  overseers, 
"without  exhorting  you  to  refrain  from 
spirituous  liquors ;  they  will  prove  your 
ruin  if  you  do  not.  Consider  how  little  a 
drunken  man  differs  from  a  beast;  the 
latter  is  not  endowed  with  reason,  the 
former  deprives  himself  of  it ;  and  when 
that  is  the  case,  acts  like  a  brute,  annoy 
ing  and  disturbing  every  one  around  him ; 
nor  is  this  all,  nor,  as  it  respects  himself, 
the  worst  of  it.  By  degrees  it  renders  a 
person  feeble,  and  not  only  unable  to 
serve  others,  but  to  help  himself;  and 
being  an  act  of  his  own,  he  falls  from  a 
state  of  usefulness  into  contempt,  and  at 
length  suffers,  if  not  perishes,  in  penury 
and  waut.  Don't  let  this  be  your  case. 
Shew  yourself  more  of  a  man  and  a  Chris- 
ian  than  to  yield  to  so  intolerable  a  vice, 
which  cannot,  I  am  certain,  (to  the  great 
est  lover  of  liquor,)  give  more  pleasure  to 
sip  :.n  the  poison,  (for  it  is  no  better,)  than 
the  consequence  of  it  in  bad  behavior  at 
the  moment,  and  the  more  serious  evils 
produced  by  it  afterwards  must  give  pain." 

Great  and  wonderful  were  the  results 
destined  to  flow  from  the  '  Washington 
Temperance  Society,'  thus  started  by  those 
six  inebriates  in  the  city  of  Baltimore. 
At  their  second  meeting,  they  had  two 
new  members ;  but,  in  a  comparatively 
short  time,  the  society  increased  so  much 
that  it  became  a  question  how  they  could 
employ  their  time  so  as  to  make  their 
meetings  interesting.  The  president  there 
upon  suggested  that  each  member  should 


rise  in  his  place  and  give  his  experience  ; 
and,  by  way  of  commencement,  he  arose 
and  told  what  he  had  passed  through  in 
the  last  fifteen  years,  and  the  advantages 
he  had  derived  from  signing  the  total- 
abstinence  pledge.  This  was  the  origin  of 
that  most  popular  and  efficient  method 
which  the  Washington  Society  and  all  its 
auxiliaries  adopted,  for  giving  interest 
and  effect  to  their  gatherings.  Signers 
were  thus  obtained,  and  the  attention  of 
the  public  was  attracted,  so  that  a  class 
was  reached  which  otherwise  might  not 
have  been  affected  by  the  labors  of  those 
other  good  men  who  had  for  so  many 
years  been  engaged  in  promoting  temper 
ance  in  a  different  way. 

By  Christmas,  in  1840,  the  reform  had 
become  so  popular,  that  thousands  had 
flocked  to  its  standard,  and  enrolled  them 
selves  as  the  friends  of  temperance.  The 
wave  had  swept  onward,  and  tidings  of  the 
great  reformation  reached  distant  cities. 
On  invitation  from  New  York,  for  a  dele 
gation  of  five  men  to  hold  experience 
meetings  twice  every  day  for  one  week,  in 
that  city,  Messrs.  Hawkins,  Pollard,  Shaw, 
Casey,  and  Mitchell,  proceeded  to  that 
place,  and  there  held  the  first  Washing- 
tonian  missionary  temperance  meeting 
ever  known  in  the  United  States.  It  was 
a  type  of  that  success  which  was  to 
accompany  this  new  system  in  behalf 
of  temperance,  for,  during  each  of  the 
speeches,  multitudes  came  forward  and 
signed  the  pledge,  and,  taken  altogether, 
such  a  scene  had  never  before  been  wit 
nessed  in  New  York. 

But  the  most  powerful  among  all  the 
advocates  of  Washingtonian  reform  was 
Mr.  Hawkins,  who  rose  from  the  very  gut 
ter  of  drunkenness  to  the  rostrum  of  im 
passioned  eloquence  in  advocacy  of  reform, 
and  with  prodigious  success.  The  pecu 
liar  circumstances  of  his  history  had  an 
almost  overpowering  effect  on  his  own 
feelings,  whenever  he  spoke,  and  his  au 
diences  listened  now  breathlessly,  and 
anon  with  uncontrollable  demonstrations 
of  enthusiasm.  He  was  a  man  of  plain, 
good  common  sense,  with  a  peculiar  sin- 


398 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


cerity  about  him,  and  an  easy  way  of 
working  up  his  hearers  to  a  state  of  sym 
pathy  with  him.  He  would  at  one  time 
assume  the  melting  mood,  and  picture  the 
scenes  of  a  drunkard's  home — and  that 
home  his  own — and  the  fountains  of  gen 
erous  feelings,  in  many  hearts,  gushed 
forth  in  tears  ;  and  again,  in  a  moment, 
as  he  related  some  ludicrous  story,  those 
tearful  eyes  glistened  with  delight,  sighs 
changed  to  hearty  shouts,  and  long  faces 
we  Be  convulsed  with  broad  grins  and 
glorious  smiles.  Drunkards  and  outcasts 
of  the  worst  type,  that  swarm  in  the  fes 
tering  purlieus  and  penetralia  of  New  York, 
were  reclaimed,  and  such  was  the  over 
whelming  power  of  the  movement,  that, 
finally,  immense  meetings  were  held  in  the 
Park.  In  Boston,  too,  the  old  Cradle  of 
Liberty  rocked  with  tumultuous  enthusi 
asm  for  '  independence  '  from  the  tyrant  of 
strong  drink.  Festivals,  children's  cold 
water  armies,  processions,  banners,  bands 
of  music,  songs,  etc.,  lilled  the  whole  land 
with  the  feast  of  reason  and  the  flow  of 
soul. 

Statistics  might  be  indefinitely  pre 
sented,  showing  the  vast  results  achieved 
by  this  wonderful  moral  enginery.  Up 
wards  of  twenty-two  thousand  names  were 
obtained  to  the  pledge  by  Messrs.  Pollard 
and  Wright,  in  a  lecturing  tour  made  by 
them  through  Central  New  York,  New 
Jersey,  and  Pennsylvania.  Messrs.  Vicars 
and  Small  and  Smith  revolutionized  Ohio 
and  the  West ;  Hawkins,  Bishop,  John 
son,  Hayes,  and  Haydock,  labored  from 
one  end  of  the  country  to  the  other.  Haw 
kins  alone,  in  less  than  twenty  years, 
traveled  more  than  two  hundred  thousand 
miles,  lecturing  between  five  and  six  thou 
sand  times.  Latham,  Madden,  Snow, 
White,  Gary,  Leigh,  Coffin,  Brown,  Riley, 
Bun  gay,  Copway,  Zug,  Drinkard,  Thomp 
son,  are  names  that  will  ever  be  remem 
bered,  too,  as  powerful  and  successful 
advocates  of  this  reform,  on  the  rostrum  ; 
and  those  of  Pierpont,  Burleigh,  Phillips, 
Tappan,  and  others,  by  their  stirring 
songs  and  poems.  But,  chief  and  most 
powerful  of  the  many  advocates  of  the 


temperance  reformation,  is  John  B.  Gough, 
who  has  proved  himself  in  this  arena,  a 
wonderful  orator.  His  eloquence,  indeed, 
was  of  that  electric  quality  which,  striking 
a  chord  in  every  heart  and  drawing  tears 
from  every  eye,  perfectly  swayed  the  vast 
multitudes  that  hung  upon  his  words 
wherever  he  went.  Every  city,  town,  and 
village,  throughout  the  country,  felt  the 
impress  of  his  wonderful  power  in  this 
great  reformatory  movement.  Like  Haw 
kins,  his  condition  was  humble,  but  from 
this  he  had  descended  to  the  lowest  depths 
of  social  and  personal  degradation  until 
rescued  by  the  interposition  of  a  friendly 
hand.  No  data  can  adequately  describe 
the  extent  and  value  of  his  labors  from 
that  time  forth,  for  a  quarter  of  a  century 
and  more. 

But  a  new  and  most  interesting,  as  well 
as  important  chapter,  in  the  history  of 
temperance,  is  yet  to  be  mentioned,  namely, 
the  visit  of  Father  Mathew,  the  world- 
renowned  'Apostle  of  Temperance'  in 
Ireland,  to  this  countnr,  in  1849.  For 
ten  years  previously,  he  labored  as  a  tem 
perance  agitator  and  reformer  in  Ireland 
and  England.  In  five  months,  he  obtained 
150,000  converts  in  Cork  ;  and  in  Gal  way, 
he  administered  the  pledge  to  no  less  than 
100,000  in  two  days  !  On  his  landing  at 
New  York  city,  the  civil  authorities  ac 
corded  him  the  honor  of  a  public  recep 
tion, — certainly  well  deserved,  by  one  who 
had  been  the  instrument,  under  divine 
guidance,  of  reclaiming  6,000,000  of  his 
fellow-creatures.  He  visited  the  principal 
cities,  north  and  south,  and  everywhere  a 
hearty  welcome  was  extended  to  him  from 
all  classes.  He  remained  several  days  in 
Washington,  where  he  was  entertained 
at  a  grand  dinner  by  the  president  of  the 
United  States,  and  received  many  dis 
tinguishing  marks  of  esteem  from  gentle 
men  highest  in  the  offices  of  the  govern 
ment.  He  was  honored,  also,  with  a  seat 
on  the  floor  of  the  house  of  representa 
tives,  and  within  the  bar  of  the  United 
States  senate.  At  Philadelphia,  he  re 
ceived  his  welcome  in  Independence  Hull  ; 
and  at  Boston,  the  doors  of  Faneuil  Hall 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


399 


DISTINGUISHED  TEMPERANCE  ADVOCATES. 


400 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


opened  to  him  on  golden  hinges  of  accla 
mation,  and  where  he  administered  the 
pledge  to  upwards  of  four  thousand  per 
sons  the  first  day.  His  method  of  admin 
istering  the  pledge  was  somewhat  novel, 
though  at  the  same  time  quite  affecting. 
The  converts  knelt  in  a  semi-circle  around 
him,  and  repeated  the  following  words  : 

'  I  promise,  with  divine  assistance,  to 
abstain  from  all  intoxicating  liquors,  cor 
dials,  cider  and  fruit  liquors,  and  to  pre 
vent,  as  much  as  possible,  intemperance  in 
others,  by  advice  and  example.' 

To  this,  Father  Mathew's  response  was, 
'  May  God  bless  you,  my  children.  May 
he  give  you  grace  and  strength  to  keep 
the  pledge.'  He  then  went  to  each  indi 
vidual  and  marked  them  with  the  sign  of 
the  cross  ;  but  this  latter  ceremony,  and 
the  kneeling,  were  dispensed  with  in  the 
case  of  Protestants.  In  this  way,  the 
venerable  and  devoted  man  traveled  over 
almost  the  entire  country,  zealously  ad 
vocating  his  great  principles,  and  upwards 
of  six  hundred  thousand  persons  enrolled 
themselves  under  his  banner  of  total 
abstinence.  Upon  descending  the  Missis 
sippi,  he  administered  in  one  of  the  towns 
situated  on  its  banks,  the  pledge  to  seven 
hundred  persons.  He  ascended  it,  after 
an  interval  of  some  mouths,  and  stopping 
at  the  same  town,  he  had  the  gratification 
to  find  that  among  the  converts  there  were 
but  three  instances  of  relapse.  Though 
not  possessed  of  the  oratorical  graces  of 
eloquence,  like  those  of  Gough,  he  knew 
how  to  present  truth  with  such  force  and 
sincerity,  as  to  win  almost  irresistibly 
upon  all  hearers.  The  following  anecdote 
will  illustrate  his  peculiar  forte  : 

'  Did  you  see  Father  Mathew  lately  ? ' 
said  one  friend  to  another,  whom  he  hap 
pened  to  meet.  'I  did,'  was  the  reply. 
'And  I'll  engage  he  made  you  take  the 
pledge  ! '  'He  did,  indeed.  But  did  you 
see  him  lately?'  'To  be  sure  I  did.' 
'  And  did  he  make  you  take  it  too  ? ' 
'  That  he  did  ! '  '  There's  no  escaping 
him  ;  but  I  am  not  sorry  for  it.'  '  No,  nor 
I  neither.' 

Personally,  Father  Mathew  was  a  little 


above  the  ordinary  stature,  with  a  full 
and  well-proportioned  figure,  dark  hair, 
soft  blue  eyes,  ruddy  and  healthy  com 
plexion. 

Though  characterized  by  periods  of 
prosperity  and  declension,  the  temperance 
cause  has  proved  itself  ineradicable,  even 
under  circumstances  seemingly  the  most 
untoward.  Perhaps  the  greatest  struggle 
through  which  it  has  passed,  in  later  years, 
has  been  that  which  involved  the  enact 
ment  of  state  prohibitory  laws,  which 
visited  stringent  penalties  upon  those  who 
sold  spirituous  liquors.  The 'name  of  Neal 
Dow,  the  author  and  advocate  of  this  kind 
of  legislation,  the  discussion  attending 
which  has  been  one  of  the  most  important 
and  exciting  during  the  century,  will  for 
ever  be  identified  with  the  history  of  the 
American  temperance  reformation,  as  will 
also  the  names  of  Greeley  and  Miner,  dis 
tinguished  champions  of  the  same  prin 
ciple. 

It  would  be  an  easy  task  to  fill  a  whole 
volume  with  distinguished  testimonies  to 
the  value  of  temperance.  As  this,  how 
ever,  would  here  be  impossible,  a  few 
pleasant  illustrative  incidents  will  suffice 
the  purpose. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  revolutionary 
war,  an  officer  in  the  American  army  had 
occasion  to  transact  some  business  with 
General  Washington,  and  repaired  to 
Philadelphia  for  that  purpose.  Before 
leaving,  he  received  an  invitation  to  dine 
with  the  general,  which  was  accepted  and, 
upon  entering  the  room  he  found  himself 
in  the  company  of  a  large  number  of  ladies 
and  gentlemen.  As  they  were  mostly 
strangers  to  him,  and  he  was  of  a  naturally 
modest  and  unassuming  disposition,  he 
took  a  seat  near  the  foot  of  the  table,  and 
refrained  from  taking  an  active  part  in 
the  conversation.  Just  before  the  dinner 
was  concluded,  Washington  politely  re 
quested  him,  by  name,  to  drink  a  glass  of 
wine  with  him. 

'You  will  have  the  goodness  to  excuse 
me,  general,'  was  the  reply,  'as  I  have 
made  it  a  rule  not  to  take  wine.' 

All  eyes  were  instantly  turned  upon  the 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


401 


young  officer,  and  a  murmur  of  contempt 
and  surprise  ran  around  the  room.  That 
a  person  should  be  so  unsocial,  not  to  say 
mean,  as  never  to  drink  wine,  was  really 
too  bad ;  but  that  he  should  abstain  from 
it  on  an  occasion  like  that,  and  even  when 
offered  to  him  by  Washington  himself, 
was  really  intolerable  !  Washington  no 
ticed  at  once  the  feelings  of  his  guests, 
and  promptly  addressed  them  in  his  gra 
cious  and  winning  way,  saying: 

'  Gentlemen,  Mr. is  right.  I  do 

not  wish  any  of  my  guests  to  partake 
of  anything  against  their  inclination, 
and  I  certainly  do  not  wish  them  to 
violate  any  established  principle  in  their 

intercourse  with  me.  I  honor  Mr. for 

his  frankness,  for  his  consistency  in  thus 
adhering  to  an  established  rule  which  can 
never  do  him  harm,  and  for  the  adoption 
of  which,  I  have  no  doubt,  he  has  good 
reasons.' 

General  Taylor,  the  hero  of  the  Mexi 
can  war,  always  gave  the  weight  of  his 
example  in  favor  of  temperance.  A  trav 
eler  in  the  west  one  day  encountered  an 
emigrant  journeying  with  his  family  to 
the  fertile  regions  beyond  the  Mississippi, 
all  his  worldly  goods  being  packed  on 
wagons,  and  on  one  load  there  hung  a 
huge  jug  with  the  bottom  broken  out. 
The  emigrant  was  asked  his  reason  for 
carrying  that  with  him.  '  Why,'  he  said, 


'that  is  my  Taylor  jug.'  'And  what  is  a 
Taylor  jug  ? '  inquired  the  friend.  '  Why,' 
said  the  emigrant,  '  I  had  a  son  with  Gen 
eral  Taylor's  army  in  Mexico,  and  the  old 
general  always  told  him  to  carry  his  whis 
key-jug  witn  a  hole  i*1  the  bottom  ;  and 
since  that,  I  have  carried  my  jug  as  you 
see  it,  and  I  find  it  is  the  best  invention  I 
ever  met  with.' 

Everybody  admired  Admiral  Farragut's 
heroism  in  clinging  to  the  topmast  to 
direct  a  battle ;  but  there  was  another 
particular  of  that  contest,  illustrating  no 
less  forcibly  his  heroic  character.  '  Ad 
miral,'  said  one  of  his  officers,  the  night 
before  the  battle,  '  won't  you  consent  to 
give  Jack  a  glass  of  grog  in  the  morning, 
not  enough  to  make  him  drunk,  but  enough 
to  make  him  fight  cheerfully  ?  '  '  Well/ 
replied  the  admiral,  '  I  have  been  to  sea 
considerably,  and  have  seen  a  battle  or 
two,  but  I  never  found  that  I  wanted  rum 
to  enable  me  to  do  my  duty.  I  will  order 
two  cups  of  coffee  to  each  man,  at  two 
o'clock ;  and,  at  eight  o'clock,  I  will  pipe 
all  hands  to  breakfast,  in  Mobile  bay.' 
And  he  did  give  Jack  the  coffee ;  and 
then  he  went  up  to  the  mast-head,  and  the 
result  is  well  known. 

These  illustrations  of  devotedness  to  the 
principle  of  temperance  in  high  places 
might  be  greatly  multiplied.  Their  value 
to  the  cause  can  hardly  be  overestimated. 


26 


FREMONT'S  HEROIC  EXPEDITION  OF  DISCOVERY  TO 

THE  UNTRACKED  REGION  OF  THE  NORTH-WEST, 

OREGON,  CALIFORNIA,   ETC.— 1842. 


His  Exploration  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  anil  of  tliat  Wonderful  Gateway  in  the  Rocky  Mountains,  the 
South  Pass  —Plants  the  American  Flag  on  the  Highest  Peak  of  that  Lofty  Range  —He  Enriches 
Every  Brand)  of  Natural  Science,  and  Illustrates  a  Remote  and  Boundless  Country  Before  Entirely 

Unknown. — Fremont,  a  Pioneer  of  Empire. — National  Objects 
of  this  Tour — Enchanting  Record  of  Adventure. — Surveys 
and  Researches.— Humboldt's  Tribute  of  Admiration. — Wild 
Grandeur  of  the  Route. — Scenes  in  this  Vast  Domain. — The 
Rocky  Mountains  :  First  Glimpses. — Formation  of  the  Soutli 
]»ass. — «•  Kit  Carson,"  the  Intrepid  Guide. — At  the  Topmost 
Peak,  14,000  Feet —Startling  Boldness  of  the  View. — Over 
powering  Quiet  and  Solitude. — Evidences  of  Awtul  Convul 
sions — Unfurling  the  Flag  of  the  Union. — Appearance  of 
Great  Salt  Lake. — Eternal  Snows  of  the  Sierra  Nevada. — In 
the  San  Joaquin  Valley. — An  Immense  Circuit  of  Travel  — 
Fremont,  the  Modern  Pathfinder. — Honors  from  His  Country 
men  — A  King's  Gift  and  Regards. 


"Prominently  detervln?  of  <iiMinr»i'lieil  recognition  li  the  icrvloe  rendered  to 
•eoirraphical  iciem-e  by  the  American  explorer,  r  remunt  "  —  Kmu  t'KIDMIO 
WILLIAM  IV.,  or  FKUSIIA,  TO  BAKOH  HUHUOLDT. 


VERY  American  reader  is  enchanted  with  the  narrative  of 
EXPLORING  THK  NOHTH-WE8T.  tliosc  intrepid  and  lieroic  explorations  of  Fremont,  "  the 
Pathfinder,"  which,  in  the  language  of  Humboldt,  —  himself  the  greatest  scientific 
explorer  and  geographer  the  world  has  ever  seen, — "  enriched  every  branch  of  natural 
science,  and  illustrated  a  vast  country  before  entirely  unknown,"  and  in  appreciation 
of  which  he  received  from  his  admiring  countrymen  the  highest  tokens  of  honor,  and, 
from  kingly  hands,  acknowledgments  inscribed  on  tablets  of  gold. 

Several  exploring  tours  of  the  western  portion  of  our  continent,  within  the  geograph 
ical  boundaries  of  the  country  subsequently  known  by  the  title  of  Oregon,  took  place 
before  that  which  was  led  by  the  brave  Fremont,  but  none  with  such  rich  and  varied 
results  as  the  latter. 

It  being  desirable  for  our  government  to  become  fully  acquainted  with  the  character 
of  the  vast  territory  between  the  southern  geographical  boundary  of  the  United  States 
and  the  Rocky  Mountains,  around  the  head-waters  of  the  Missouri,  Fremont  was 
appointed  to  superintend  that  exploring  tour,  under  the  direction  of  Colonel  Abert, 
the  chief  of  the  topographical  bureau  at  Washington,  and  by  him  projected  and 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


403 


planned,  with  the  approval  of  Secretary 
Poinsett.  The  great  object  of  this  expe 
dition  was  to  examine  and  report  upon  the 
rivers  and  country  hetween  the  frontiers 
of  Missouri  and  the  base  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains;  and  especially  to  examine  the 
character,  and  ascertain  the  latitude  and 
longitude  of  that  wonderful  gateway,  the 
S'nith  Pass,  the  great  crossing  place  to 
these  mountains  on  the  way  to  Oregon. 

In  executing  his  official  instructions, 
Fremont  proceeded  up  the  Kansas  river 
far  enough  to  ascertain  its  peculiar  feat 
ures,  and  then  crossed  over  to  the  Great 
Platte,  and  pursued  that  river  to  its  source 
in  the  mountains,  where  the  Sweet  Water 
—  a  head  branch  of  the  Platte  —  issues 
from  the  neighborhood  of  the  South  Pass. 
He  reached  the  Pass  on  the  eighth  of 
August,  and  found  it  to  be  a  wide  and  low 
depression  of  the  mountains,  of  very  easy 
ascent,  and  where  a  plainly  beaten  wagon 
load  leads  to  the  Oregon  through  the  valley 
of  Lewis's  river,  a  fork  of  the  Columbia. 
He  went  through  the  Pass,  and  saw  the 
head-waters  of  the  Colorado,  of  the  Gulf 
of  California  ;  and,  leaving  the  valleys  to 
indulge  a  laudable  curiosity,  and  to  make 
some  useful  observations,  Fremont,  at 
tended  by  four  of  his  men,  climbed  the 
loftiest  peak  of  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
until  then  untrodden  by  any  known  human 
being;  and,  on  the  fifteenth  of  August, 
looked  down  upon  ice  and  snow  some  thou 
sand  feet  below,  and  traced-  in  the  distance 
the  valleys  of  the  rivers  which,  taking 
their  rise  in  the  same  elevated  ridge,  flow 
in  opposite  directions  to  the  Pacific  ocean 
and  to  the  Mississippi.  From  that  ultimate 
point  he  returned  by  the  valley  of  the 
Great  Platte,  following  the  stream  in  its 
whole  course,  and  solving  all  questions  in 
relation  to  its  navigability,  and  the  feat 
ures  of  the  country  through  which  it  flows. 

On  the  prairies  which  border  the  forks 
of  the  river  Platte,  the  travelers  bivou 
acked  in  the  evening,  eating  their  meat 
with  a  good  relish  ;  for  they  were  all  in  fine 
health,  and  had  ridden  nearly  all  of  a  long 
summer's  day,  with  a  burning  sun  reflected 
from  the  sands. 


When  about  sixty  miles  distant,  the 
party  caught  the  first  faint  glimpse  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains.  Though  a  tolerably 
bright  day,  there  was  a  slight  mist,  and 
the  snowy  summit  of  '  Long's  Peak/ 
showing  like  a  small  cloud  near  the  hori 
zon,  was  just  barely  discernible.  There 
was,  however,  no  mistake  in  distinguishing 
it,  there  being  a  perceptible  difference 
in  its  appearance  from  the  white  clouds 
that  were  floating  about  the  sky. 

Proceeding  onward  through  hostile 
tribes  of  Indians,  Fremont  reached  the 
first  military  frontier  post — Fort  Laramie  ; 
departing  thence,  in  a  short  time,  for  the 
bases  of  the  "  great  mountains."  With 
the  change  in  the  geological  formation  on 
leaving  Fort  Laramie,  the  whole  face  of  the 
country  appears  entirely  changed.  East 
ward  of  the  meridian,  the  principal  objects 
which  strike  the  eye  of  the  traveler  are 
the  absence  of  timber,  and  the  immense 
expanse  of  prairie,  covered  with  the  verd 
ure  of  rich  grasses,  and  highly  adapted 
for  pasturage.  Wherever  they  are  not 
disturbed  by  the  vicinity  of  man,  large 
herds  of  buffalo  give  animation  to  this 
country. 

Many  sufferings  were  endured  in  reach 
ing  the  Rocky  Mountains,  but  the  follow 
ing  details  show  that  the  labors  of  the 
party  were  amply  rewarded.  About  six 
miles  from  their  encampment  brought  the 
party  to  the  summit  of  the  South  Pass. 
The  ascent  had  been  so  gradual,  that,  with 
all  the  intimate  knowledge  possessed  by 
Carson,  the  guide,  and  who  had  made  that 
country  his  home  for  seventeen  years,  the 
party  were  obliged  to  watch  very  closely 
to  find  the  place  at  which  they  had  reached 
the  culminating  point.  This  was  between 
two  low  hills,  rising  on  either  hand  fifty 
or  sixty  feet.  From  the  broken  ground 
where  this  pass  commences,  at  the  foot  of 
the  Wind  River  Chain,  the  view  to  the 
south-east  is  over  a  champaign  country, 
broken,  at  the  distance  of  nineteen  miles, 
by  the  Table  Rock,  which,  with  the  other 
isolated  hills  in  its  vicinity,  seemingly 
stands  on  a  comparative  plain.  The 
'Pass'  in  no  manner  resembles  the  places 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


to  which  that  term  is  commonly  applied — 
nothing  of  the  gorge-like  character  and 
winding  ascents  of  the  Allegbany  passes 
in  America,  nor  of  the  great  St.  Bernard 
and  Simplon  passes  in  Europe.  Approach 
ing  from  the  month  of  the  Sweet  Water,  a 
sandy  plain,  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles 
long,  conducts,  by  a  gradual  and  regular 
ascent,  to  the  summit,  about  seven  thou 
sand  feet  above  the  sea ;  and  the  traveler, 
without  being  reminded  of  any  change, 
by  toilsome  ascents,  suddenly  finds  him 
self  on  the  waters  which  flow  to  the  Pacific 
ocean.  On  this  short  mountain-chain  are 
the  head-waters  of  four  great  rivers  of  the 
western  continent,  namely,  the  Colorado, 
Columbia,  Missouri,  and  Platte  rivers. 


PLANTtNO  AMERICAN  FLAO  ON  THE 
ROCKY  MOUNTAINS,  BV  FKEMONT. 

A  scene  of  characteris 
tic  adventure  was  that  of 
reaching  the  summit  of 
these  mountains.  Putting 
hands  and  feet  in  the  crev 
ices  between  the  blocks, 
Fremont  succeeded  in  get 


ting  over  it,  and,  on  attaining  the  top, 
found  his  companions  in  a  small  valley 
below.  Descending  to  them,  they  con 
tinued  climbing,  and  in  a  short  time 
reached  the  crest.  He  sprang  upon  the 
summit,  and  unfurled  the  national  flay  to 
wave  in  the  breeze  where  never  flay  ivaved 
before. 

During  the  morning's  ascent,  no  sign 
of  animal  life  was  met  with,  except  a  small 
sparrow-like  bird.  A  stillness  the  most 
profound  and  a  solitude  the  most  terrible 
forced  themselves  constantly  on  the  mind 
as  the  great  features  of  the  place.  Here, 
on  the  summit,  where  the  stillness  was  ab 
solute,  unbroken  by  any  sound,  and  the 
solitude  complete,  the  explorers  thought 
themselves  beyond  the  region  of  animated 
life;  but,  while  they  were  sitting  on  the 
rock,  a  solitary  humble-bee  came  winging 
his  flight  from  the  eastern  valley,  and  lit 
on  the  knee  of  one  of  the  men.  It  was  a 
strange  place,  the  icy  rock  and  the  highest 
peak  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  for  a  lover 
of  warm  sunshine  and  flowers.  The 
barometer  stood  at  18.293,  the  attached 
thermometer  at  44  degrees;  giving  for 
the  elevation  of  this  summit  13,570  feet 
above  the  sea,  it  may  be  called  the  highest 
known  flight  of  the  bee.  From  this  pre 
sumed  loftiest  peak  of  the  (jreat  mountain 
runr/fi, — since  known  as  Fremont's  Peak, — 
could  be  seen  innumerable  lakes  and 
streams,  the  spring  of  the  Colorado  of  the 
Gulf  of  California,  on  the  one  side  ;  on  the 
other,  was  the  Wind  River  valley,  where 
were  the  heads  of  the  Yellow  Stone  branch 
of  the  Missouri ;  far  to  the  north  could  be 
faintly  descried  the  snowy  heads  of  the 
Trois  Tetons,  where  were  the  sources  of 
the  Missouri  and  Columbia  rivers  ;  and  at 
the  southern  extremity  of  the  ridge,  the 
peaks  were  plainly  visible,  among  which 
were  some  of  the  springs  of  the  Nebraska, 
or  Platte  river.  The  whole  scene  around 
had  one  main  striking  feature,  which  was 
that  of  terrible  convulsion.  Parallel  to 
its  length,  the  ridge  was  split  into  chasms 
and  fissures  ;  between  which  rose  the  thin 
lofty  walls,  terminated  with  slender  mina 
rets  and  columns. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


405 


Fremont's  next  tour  was  devoted  to 
Oregon  and  California.  On  arriving  at 
the  Utah  lake,  he  had  completed  an 
immense  circuit  of  twelve  degrees  diame 


ter  north  and  south,  and  ten  degrees  east 
and  west.  They  found  themselves  in 
May,  1844,  on  the  same  sheet  of  water 
which  they  had  left  in  September,  1843. 
The  Utah  is  the  southern  limb  of  the 
Great  Salt  Lake ;  and  thus  they  had  seen 
this  remarkable  sheet  of  water  both  at  its 
northern  and  southern  extremity,  and  were 
able  to  fix  its  position  at  these  two  points. 
In  this  eight  months  circuit,  the  explorers 
found  that  the  mountains  on  the  Pacific 
slope  are  higher,  more  numerous,  and  more 
distinctly  defined  in  their  ranges  and 
directions,  than  those  on  the  Atlantic  side  ; 
and,  what  is  contrary  to  the  natural  order 
of  such  formations,  one  of  these  ranges, 
which  is  near  the  coast — the  Sierra  Nevada 
and  the  Coast  Range  —  presents  higher 
elevations  and  peaks  than  any  which  are 
to  be  found  in  the  Rocky  Mountains  them 
selves.  During  all  this  circuit,  the  party 
were  never  out  of  sight  of  snow;  and  the 
Sierra  Nevada,  where  they  crossed  it,  was 
nearly  two  thousand  feet  higher  than  the 
famous  South  Pass.  Peaks  are  constantly 
seen  which  enter  the  region  of  eternal 
snow. 

Differing  so  much   from    the    Atlantic 


side  of  our  continent  in  coast,  mountains, 
and  rivers,  the  Pacific  side  differs  from  it 
in  }ret  another  most  rare  and  singular 
feature — that  of  the  Great  Interior  Basin. 
The  structure  of  the  country  would  require 
this  formation  of  interior  lakes,  for  the 
waters  which  would  collect  between  the 
Rock}-  Mountains  and  the  Sierra  Nevada, 
not  being  able  to  cross  this  formidable 
barrier,  nor  to  get  to  the  Columbia  or  the 
Colorado,  must  naturally  collect  into  reser 
voirs,  each  of  which  would  have  its  little 
system  of  streams  and  rivers  to  suppty  it. 
The  Great  Salt  Lake  is  a  formation  of  this 
kind,  and  quite  a  large  one,  having  many 
streams,  and  one  considerable  river,  four 
or  five  hundred  miles  long,  falling  into  it. 
Fremont  saw  this  lake  and  river,  and 
examined  them  ;  he  also  saw  the  Wahsatch 
and  Bear  River  mountains  inclosing  the 
waters  of  the  lake  on  the  east,  and  consti 
tute,  in  that  quarter,  the  rim  of  the  Great 
Basin.  Afterwards,  along  the  eastern 
base  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  where  the  party 
traveled  for  forty-two  days,  they  saw  the 
line  of  lakes  and  rivers  which  lie  at  the 
foot  of  that  sierra,  and  which  sierra  is  the 
western  rim  of  the  basin.  In  going  down 
Lewis's  Fork,  and  the  main  Columbia,  they 
crossed  only  inferior  streams  coming  in 
from  the  left ;  and  often  saw  the  mountains 
at  their  heads,  white  with  snow,  which 
divided  the  waters  of  the  desert  frcm  those 
of  the  Columbia, — the  range  of  mountains 
forming  the  rim  of  the  basin  on  its  north 
ern  side.  In  returning  from  California 
along  the  Spanish  trail,  as  far  as  the  head 
of  the  Santa  Clara  Fork  of  the  Rio  Virgen, 
the  party  crossed  only  small  streams 
making  their  wa}*  south  to  the  Colorado, 
or  lost  in  sand,  as  the  Mo-hah-ve  ;  while 
to  the  left,  lofty  mountains,  their  summits 
white  with  snow,  were  often  visible — and 
which,  Fremont  concluded,  must  have 
turned  water  to  the  north  as  well  as  to  the 
south,  thus  constituting,  on  this  part,  the 
southern  rim  of  the  basin.  At  the  head 
of  the  Santa  Clara  Fork,  and  in  the  Vegas 
de  Santa  Clara,  they  crossed  the  ridge 
which  parted  the  two  systems  of  waters. 
They  entered  the  basin  at  that  point,  and 


406 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


continued  for  some  time  to  travel  in  it, 
having  its  south-eastern  rim — the  Wah- 
satch  mountain — on  the  right,  and  cross 
ing  the  streams  which  flow  down  into  it. 

In  this  eventful  exploration,  all  the 
great  features  of  the  western  slope  of  our 
continent  were  brought  to  light  —  the 
Great  Salt  Lake,  the  Utah  Lake,  the  Little 
Salt  Lake — at  all  which  places,  then  desert, 
the  Mormons  now  are  ;  the  Sierra  Nevada, 
then  solitary  in  the  snow,  now  crowded 
with  Americans,  digging  gold  from  its 
banks ;  the  beautiful  valleys  of  the  Sacra 
mento  and  San  Joaquin,  then  alive  with 
wild  horses,  elk,  deer,  and  wild  fowls,  now 
smiling  with  American  cultivation.  The 
Great  Basin  itself,  and  its  contents;  the 
three  Parks;  the  approximation  of  the 
great  rivers  which,  rising  together  in  the 
central  region  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  go 
off  east  and  west  towards  the  rising  and 
the  setting  sun,  —  all  these,  and  other 
strange  features  of  a  new  region,  more 
Asiatic  than  American,  were  brought  to 


It  was  in  May,  1845,  that  Fremont  set 
out  on  his  third  expedition  for  the  explora 
tion  of  the  Great  West,  and  he  was  soon 
at  the  north  end  of  the  great  Tla-math 
lake,  and  in  Oregon.  Hostilities  being 
likely  to  break  out  between  the  United 
States  and  Mexico,  Fremont,  in  order  to 
avoid  exciting  any  unjust  suspicion  as  to 
the  character  of  his  movements,  obtained 
leave  of  the  Mexican  general  at  Monterey, 
to  encamp  during  the  ensuing  winter,  in 
the  San  Joaquin  valley.  It  was  not  long, 
however,  before  open  diplomatic  hostilities 
broke  out  between  the  two  republics,  and 
Fremont  received  word  from  his  govern 
ment  to  keep  an  eye  upon  Mexican  and 
other  designs  upon  California.  General 
Kearney,  by  order  of  government,  was 
constituted  head  of  the  army  of  the  west, 
which  was  to  retaliate  sternly  upon 
Mexico,  for  her  assumed  aggressions. 
New  Mexico  was  soon  prostrate  before 
American  arms.  On  the  fifth  of  July, 
1846,  under  the  lead  of  Fremont,  a  band 


FKEMONT  ON    HI8  CHEAT   EXPLORING  TOUR  TO  THE  FAR  WEST   AND   ROCKY  MOfNTAI.NS. 


light  and  revealed  to  public  view  in  the 
results  of  this  exploration.  But  the  great 
pathfinder  was  to  win  laurels  in  still 
another  field. 


of  Americans  declared  their  independence 
of  Mexico  at  Sonoma,  a  small  town  near 
San  Francisco,  and,  not  long  after,  they 
joined  Commodore  Sloat,  who  had  recently 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


407 


reduced  Monterey.  The  successor  of  Sloat 
was  Stockton,  who,  in  connection  with 
Fremont,  at  once  gained  possession  of 
Ciudad  de  los  Angelos,  the  capital  of 
Upper  California ;  and  one  event  speedily 
succeeded  another,  until,  seemingly  as 
inevitable  as  the  gravitation  of  fate,  the 
loss  of  California  was  consummated,  and 
Fremont  was  appointed  governor  of  the 
territory,  which,  largely  through  his  efforts, 
had  now  become  a  permanent  possession 
of  the  United  States. 

So  curious  a  link  in  this  chain  of  events, 
as  the  throwing  off  of  the  Mexican  yoke 
at  Sonoma,  and  illustrating  so  aptly,  as  it 
does,  the  intrepidity  of  the  great  explorer, 
possesses  an  interest  peculiarly  appropriate 
to  this  narrative.  Having  aided  in  clear 
ing  the  enemy  from  the  country  north  of 
the  bay  of  San  Francisco,  Fremont  re 
turned  to  Sonoma  on  the  evening  of  the 
fourth  of  July,  and,  on  the  morning  of  the 
fifth,  called  the  people  together,  explained 
to  them  the  condition  of  things  in  the 
province,  and  recommended  an  immediate 
declaration  of  independence.  The  declar 
ation  was  made,  and  he  was  selected  as 
governor,  or  chief  director  of  affairs. 

From  Sonoma  to  Yerba  Buena,  (says 
one  who  accompanied  him,)  the  little 
hamlet  where  now  stands  the  queen  city 
of  the  Pacific,  Fremont  augmented  his 
stock  of  horses  to  the  number  of  fifteen 
hundred,  completely  clearing  the  country; 
and  then  commenced  one  of  the  most  pecu 
liar  races  for  a  fight  ever  probably  known. 
Rarely  speaking  but  to  urge  on  his  men, 
or  to  question  some  passing  native,  taking 
the  smallest  modicum  of  refreshment,  and 
watching  while  others  snatched  a  moment's 
repose,  was  he  wrapped  up  in  his  project 
and  determined  to  have  some  of  the  fight. 
Through  San  Pablo,  and  Monterey,  and 


Josepha,  they  dashed  like  the  phantom 
riders  of  the  Hartz  mountains,  startling 
the  inhabitants,  and  making  the  night- 
watcher  cross  himself  in  terror  as  their 
band  flew  on.  The  river  Sacrificios  was 
reached  ;  swollen  by  the  rains,  it  rolled  on, 
a  rapid,  muddy  stream  ;  his  men  paused. 

"  Forward  !  Forward  !  "  cried  Fremont. 

Dashing  in  himself,  the  struggle  is  a 
fierce  one,  but  his  gallant  mustang  breasts 
the  current,  and  he  reaches  the  opposite 
shore  in  safety;  his  men  after  a  time  join 
him,  two  brave  fellows  finding  a  watery 
grave,  and  many  horses  being  carried  down 
the  stream ;  but  nothing  can  now  stop 
him — the  heights  adjacent  to  the  Puebla 
appear — now  a  smile  might  be  seen  on  the 
imperturbable  visage  of  the  leader — 'tis  the 
sixth  day,  and  the  goal  is  won  ! 

With  ninety  men  on  the  last  of  his  car 
avan  of  horses,  he  fell  like  a  thunderbolt 
on  the  rear  of  the  Mexicans.  The  day 
was  with  them ;  the  little  band  of  stout 
hearts  guarding  the  presidio,  taken  by 
surprise,  and  not  having  the  advantage  of 
the  Mexicans  in  regard  to  horses,  were 
beginning  to  waver.  But  cheer  up,  cheer 
again — succor  is  at  hand.  On  come  those 
riders  of  Fremont — nothing  can  withstand 
their  shock.  With  shouts  of  triumph  they 
change  the  battle  to  a  rout.  The  field  is 
won  !  The  rout  of  the  enemy  was  com 
plete,  and  so  ended  the  ride  of  the  one 
hundred.  Thus  did  Fremont  display,  by 
the  rarest  achievements,  the  character  of 
a  consummate  scientific  explorer  and  brave 
soldier ;  and,  for  his  pre-eminent  services 
in  behalf  of  geographical  science,  he 
received  the  highest  honors  from  the 
learned  societies  of  Europe  and  America, 
and  a  rich  and  massive  gold  medal  from 
the  king  of  Prussia,  through  the  hands  of 
Baron  Humboldt. 


XLVI. 

REBELLION   IN   RHODE   ISLAND,  UNDER    THOMAS    W. 

DORR.— 1842. 


Dissatisfaction  with  the  Old  Restricted  Charter  Granted  by  King  Charles. — Popular  Suffrage  and  Equal 
Political  Privileges  Demanded  — Resistance  of  the  Party  in  Power  to  these  Movements. — The  Con 
testants  Arm  and  Take  the  Field. — Defeat  of  the  Agitators  and  Flight  of  Dorr. — Ultimate  Prevalence 
of  their  Principles — A  Charter  Two  Hundred  Years  Old — Its  Monarchical  Provisions. — SuffrHge 
for  Property  Holders. — Denied  to  alt  Others. — An  Exclusive  Legislature. — Reformed  Measures 
Demanded. — A  People's  Convention  Called. — They  Form  a  Constitution. — Proclaimed  the  Supreme 
Law. — Legislature  Chosen  under  It. — Thomas  W.  Dorr  Elected  Governor. — Is  Treated  as  a  Traitor. — 
Claims  to  be  the  People's  Man — Governor  King's  Military  Activity — Dorr  Heads  a  Large  Force  — 
Tries  to  Seize  the  Reins  of  Power. — Is  Routed  :  Quits  the  State. — Returns  Again  to  the  Conflict. — 
Entrenches  at  Chepachet :  Retreats. — Tried  for  Treason  and  Imprisoned. — Pardoned  and  Restored. 
— Something  about  "  Barn-burning,"  or  the  Anti-Rent  Insurrection  in  New  York. 


"  All  political  government  ihould  be  inttituted  for  the  good  of  the  whole  In  general,  and  of  every  individual  in  particular."— ESSATS  ow 
OOTIH.XMENT. 


X^HARTER  rights,  granted  by  a  king,  constituted  the  charter 
of  the  political  institutions  of  Rhode  Island,  for  nearly  two 
hundred  years.  This  charter,  received  from  Charles  the 
Second,  in  1663,  was  the  fundamental  law,  and,  down  to  the 
year  1841,  no  person  had  been  allowed  to  vote  for  town  or 
state  officers,  unless  possessed  of  a  certain  amount  of  real 
estate.  Under  a  subsequent  statute  of  the  legislature,  based 
upon  the  spirit  of  the  charter,  no  person  could  be  admitted  a 
freeman  of  any  town,  with  full  political  privileges,  unless  he 

"CHARTER"  VI.  "CONSTITUTION."  J  r         1      i  i  r       i  r  111 

owned  a  ireehold  estate  of  the  value  of  one  hundred  and 

thirty-four  dollars,  or  was  the  eldest  son  of  such  a  freeholder;  and  thus,  only  about  one- 
third  of  all  the  citizens  of  the  state  were  legal  voters. 

At  the  January  session  of  the  legislature  in  1841,  a  petition,  signed  by  five  or  six 
hundred  male  inhabitants,  praying  for  an  extension  of  the  right  of  suffrage,  was  pre 
sented.  Influenced  by  that  petition,  as  well  as  by  other  considerations,  the  legislature 
requested  the  qualified  voters,  or  freemen,  as  they  were  called,  to  choose  delegates  at 
the  August  town-meetings,  for  a  convention,  to  be  held  the  ensuing  November,  to  frame 
a  written  constitution.  This  convention  was  duly  held,  and  the  result  of  its  labors, 
completed  in  1842,  was  the  instrument  commonly  known  as  the  Landholders'  Consti 
tution,  and  which  was  formally  submitted  to  the  people. 

The  friends  of  the  constitution  thus  framed,  in  their  statement  of  affairs  to  the 
chief  magistrate  of  the  nation,  state  that,  in  May,  1841,  after  said  legal  convention 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


409 


had  been  provided  for  by  the  legislature, 
and  before  the  time  appointed  for  the 
choice  of  delegates  by  the  qualified  voters, 
a  mass  meeting  was  held  by  the  friends  of 
the  extension  of  suffrage,  at  Newport,  at 
which  meeting  a  committee  was  appointed, 
called  the  state  committee,  who  were 
authorized  by  said  mass  meeting,  to  take 
measures  for  calling  a  convention  to  frame 
a  constitution.  This  committee,  thus 
authorized,  issued  the  request  for  a  meet 
ing  of  the  male  citizens  in  the  several 
towns,  to  appoint  delegates  to  the  proposed 
convention. 

Thus  called  together,  the  convention 
assembled  in  Providence,  in  October,  1841, 
and  the  instrument  called  the  Peoples 
Constitution  was  the  result  of  their  delib 
erations.  At  subsequent  meetings  of  por 
tions  of  the  people,  in  December,  1841,  by 
the  authority  of  this  convention,  all  males 
over  twenty-one  years  of  age  were  admitted 
to  vote  for  the  adoption  of  the  people's 
constitution;  these  meetings  not  being — 
according  to  the  view  held  by  the  land 
holders'  party, — under  presiding  officers 
whose  legal  duty  or  legal  right  it  was  to 
interpose  any  check  or  restraint  as  to  age, 
residence,  property,  or  color. 

By  the  provisions  of  the  people's  consti 
tution,  it  was  ordained  that  said  instru 
ment  should  be  submitted  to  the  people, 
for  adoption  or  rejection,  on  the  twenty- 
seventh  of  December,  and  on  the  two  suc 
ceeding  days.  And  it  was  also  provided, 
that  '  every  person  entitled  to  vote  as  afore 
said,  who,  from  sickness,  or  other  causes, 
may  be  unable  to  attend  and  vote  in  the 
town  or  ward  meetings  assembled  for  vot 
ing  upon  said  constitution,  on  the  days 
aforesaid,  is  requested  to  write  his  name 
on  a  ticket,  and  to  obtain  the  signature 
upon  the  back  of  the  same  of  a  person  who 
has  given  in  his  vote,  as  a  witness  thereto. 
And  the  moderator  or  clerk  of  any  town 
or  ward  meeting,  convened  for  the  pur 
pose  aforesaid,  shall  receive  such  vote  on 
either  of  the  three  days  next  succeeding 
the  three  days  before  named  for  voting  for 
said  constitution.'  During  the  first  three 
days,  about  nine  thousand  votes  were 


received  from  the  hands  of  the  voters  in 
the  open  town-meetings;  and,  by  the 
privilege  thus  granted  to  every  and  all  the 
friends  of  the  constitution,  of  bringing 
into  their  meetings  the  names  of  voters 
during  the  three  following  days,  five  thou 
sand  more  votes  were  obtained,  making 
an  aggregate  of  about  fourteen  thousand 
votes. 

This  constitution,  thus  originating  and 
thus  formed,  was  subsequently  declared  by 
the  convention  to  be  the  supreme  law  of 
the  land ;  and,  by  its  provisions,  a  govern 
ment  was  to  be  organized  under  it,  by  the 
choice  of  a  governor,  lieutenant-governor, 
senators  and  representatives,  on  the  Mon 
day  preceding  the  third  Wednesday  in 
April,  1842. 

By  the  provisions  of  the  landholders' 
constitution,  as  it  was  called,  every  white 
male  native  citizen,  possessing  the  free 
hold  qualification,  and  over  twenty-one 
years  of  age,  could  vote,  upon  a  residence 
of  one  year;  or,  without  any  freehold, 
could  vote,  upon  a  residence  of  two  years, 
except  in  the  case  of  votes  for  town-taxes, 
in  which  case  the  voter  was  required  to 
possess  the  freehold  qualification,  or  be 
taxed  for  other  property  of  the  value  of 
one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars. 

By  the  people's  constitution,  every  white 
male  citizen  of  the  United  States,  of  the 
age  of  twenty-one  years,  who  had  resided 
in  the  state  for  one  year,  and  in  the  town 
where  he  votes  for  six  months,  should  be 
permitted  to  vote, — with  the  same  excep 
tion  in  regard  to  voting  for  town-taxes,  as 
that  contained  in  the  other  constitution. 

On  the  twenty-first,  twenty-second,  and 
twenty-third  of  March,  the  landholders' 
constitution  was,  by  an  act  of  the  legisla 
ture,  submitted  to  all  the  persons  who,  by 
its  provisions,  would  be  entitled  to  vote 
under  it,  after  its  adoption,  for  their  ratifi 
cation.  It  was  rejected  by  a  majority  of 
six  hundred  and  seventy-six;  the  whole 
number  of  votes  polled,  during  these  three 
exciting  days,  was  over  sixteen  thousand. 

The  people's  constitution,  on  being  sub 
mitted  to  the  people  for  ratification, 
received  fourteen  thousand  votes,  the 


410 


OUR  FIRST  CENT URY.— 1776-1876. 


returns  being  counted  and  the  result 
declared  in  January,  1842 ;  and,  the  hind- 
holders'  constitution  having  been  defeated, 
there  was  now  presented  the  single  issue 
of  the  old  charter  of  1663  on  the  one  hand, 
and  the  suffrage  constitution,  just  adopted, 
as  claimed,  by  the  popular  vote,  on  the 
other.  Great  enthusiasm  was  manifested 
by  the  triumph  which  they  and  their  cause 
had  achieved,  and  meetings  and  proces 
sions,  with  music,  badges,  bonfires,  etc., 
everywhere  proclaimed  the  event. 

Chief  among  the  leaders  in  this  remark 
able  revolution,  as  it  was  termed,  wag 
Thomas  Wilson  Dorr,  of  Providence,  a 


graduate  of  Harvard  College,  and  who, 
after  pursuing  his  legal  studies  in  the  office 
of  Chancellor  Kent,  of  New  York,  com 
menced  his  professional  practice  in  Provi 
dence.  Though  for  years  a  federalist  in 
his  political  principles,  he  in  time  identi 
fied  himself  with  the  victorious  party 
whose  leaders  were  Jackson  and  Van 
Buren.  Of  decided  ability,  Mr.  Dorr  was, 
for  several  consecutive  terms,  elected  a 
member  of  the  state  legislature,  and,  in  this 
capacity,  he  repeatedly  proposed  measures 
for  extending  the  privilege  of  suffrage  and 
other  rights  of  citizenship.  Failing  in 


this,  and  possessing  great  activity  and 
adroitness  as  a  politician,  he  appealed  to 
the  masses,  and  was  soon  the  cherished 
leader  of  a  large  and  enthusiastic  party. 

Governor  King  issued  his  proclamation, 
pronouncing  the  movement  of  the  suffrage 
party  treasonable,  and  warning  all  of  the 
consequences  which  a  continuance  in  such 
acts  would  bring  upon  them. 

Undismayed,  however,  by  these  threats, 
the  suffrage  party,  presuming  on  its 
strength  and  popularity,  went  into  an 
election  of  state  officers,  April  eighteenth, 
1842,  resulting  in  the  elevation  of  Mr.  Dorr 
to  the  governorship,  together  with  the 
other  officers  constituting  the  government 
of  the  state.  The  seal  of  the  state  was 
copied,  and  a  fac  simile  engraving  pro 
cured.  Orders,  in  the  form  of  requests, 
were  issued  to  the  military  in  Providence 
and  elsewhere,  which  adhered  to  the  new 
order  of  things,  to  appear  in  the  city  on 
the  fourth  of  May,  to  perform  escort  duty 
on  the  occasion  of  organizing  the  new 
government. 

On  the  day  appointed,  the  officers  of  the 
state,  elect,  under  the  people's  constitu 
tion,  assembled  in  Providence,  for  the  pur 
pose  of  inauguration.  The  state-house 
having  been  refused  them,  they  met  in  an 
unfinished  building,  which  was  designed 
as  a  foundry,  and  which  had  been  obtained 
for  their  use.  On  this  eventful  morning, 
the  people  began  at  an  early  hour  to  come 
together,  and  a  large  gathering  was  soon 
on  hand.  A  procession  was  formed,  and 
proceeded  to  the  place  of  meeting,  accom 
panied  by  a  considerable  military  body. 
The  new  legislature  was  organized  in  ac 
cordance  with  the  customary  form,  and 
immediately  commenced  the  transaction 
of  business.  In  proceeding  to  the  place 
of  meeting,  the  portion  of  the  procession 
consisting  of  Dorr  and  the  other  members 
of  the  government  elect,  was  flanked,  on 
the  right  and  left,  by  a  military  guard  ; 
and  the  guard,  as  well  as  all  the  other  mil 
itary  in  the  procession,  were  supposed  to 
march  with  loaded  muskets,  and  furnished 
with  ball  cartridges.  During  the  da}',  no 
popular  disturbance  occurred,  and,  at  night, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


411 


all  was  quiet.  A  military  guard  was  kept 
at  the  place  of  meeting,  during  business 
hours,  and  at  Dorr's  quarters. 

A  message  was  delivered  by  Governor 
Dorr,  to  the  people's  legislature,  in  which 
he  gave  a  history  of  past  events  and 
marked  out  the  course  of  policy  to  be  pur 
sued.  The  message  was  regarded  as  bold, 
firm,  and  decided  in  its  tone,  and  dignified 
in  its  character.  The  first  legislative  act 
performed,  was,  the  passage  of  a  resolution 
to  inform  the  president  and  congress,  and 
the  governors  of  the  several  states,  of  the 
establishment  of  the  new  government.  A 
proposition  was  made  by  Governor  Dorr  to 
take  possession  of  the  state-house  in  Provi 
dence,  and  other  state  property,  but  this 
was  not  adopted,  but  commissioners  were 
appointed  to  demand  possession  of  the 
public  records,  funds,  and  other  property. 
Little  was  done  in  the  way  of  organizing 
the  various  departments  of  government; 
but  the  '  Algerine  Law,'  as  it  was  called, 
passed  by  the  charter  legislature,  and  de 
signed  to  prevent  citizens  from  engaging 
in  the  suffrage  party  movement,  or  taking 
office  of  any  kind  in  connection  with  the 
same,  under  certain  pains  and  penalties, 
was  solemnly  repealed.  The  courts  of  law, 
however,  were  left  unmolested,  though  all 
of  them  were  opposed  to  the  new  party, 
and  Chief  Justice  Durfeo  was  its  especial 
enemy.  After  a  session  of  three  days,  the 
body  adjourned  to  July  fourth,  at  Provi 
dence. 

Arriving  at  Providence,  Governor  Dorr 
was  received  by  a  large  mass  of  citizens, 
of  whom  two  or  three  hundred  were  armed  ; 
ia  an  undress  uniform,  and  a  sword  at 
his  side,  the  hero  of  the  day  was  conducted 
through  the  principal  streets  of  the  city, 
in  an  elegant  barouche  drawn  by  four 
white  horses.  In  this  triumphal  stj'le,  he 
proceeded  to  the  house  of  Burrington 
Anthony,  where  he  took  up  his  quarters, 
protected  by  a  military  guard,  and  two  small 
pieces  of  artillery.  Governor  Dorr  soon 
issued  a  proclamation,  in  which,  after  stat 
ing  that  the  president  had  intimated  an 
intention  of  resorting  to  the  forces  of  the 
United  States  to  check  the  movements  of 


the  people  of  Rhode  Island  in  support 
of  their  republican  constitution  recently 
adopted,  he,  Dorr,  declared  that,  so  soon 
as  a  soldier  of  the  United  States  should 
be  set  in  motion  for  any  such  purpose,  he 
should  oppose  said  force  by  that  aid  which, 
he  was  authorized  to  say,  would  be  imme 
diately  forthcoming  from  the  city  of  New 
York  and  elsewhere.  The  military  were 
|  enjoined  to  see  that  no  more  arrests  were 
made  under  the  Algerine  law,  and  the 
militia  were  directed  to  hold  themselves  in 
readiness  for  immediate  service. 

Thus,  it  became  evident  that  the  adher 
ents  to  the  charter  and  the  adherents  to 
the  constitution  were  soon  to  be  brought 
face  to  face,  force  being  opposed  to  force. 

It  was  ordered  by  King  and  his  council 
that  Dorr  should  be  taken,  if  possible, 
before  the  day  closed.  With  this  view, 
expresses  were  dispatched  into  all  parts  of 
the  state,  and  a  steam-boat  sent  to  touch  at 
Newport,  Bristol,  and  Warren,  to  bring 
help  in  behalf  of  the  charter  government ; 
the  boat,  arriving  in  the  morning,  brought 
a  large  body  of  men,  who  were  at  once 
joined  to  King's  forces,  and  prepared  for 
the  field  of  battle.  Some  aid  also  came  to 
Dorr,  and  the  prospect  was  that  a  bloody 
fight  would  occur. 

At  an  early  hour,  King,  with  a  body  of 
his  men,  marched  into  the  very  midst  of 
the  suffrage  throng,  without  molestation, 
and  surrounded  Mr.  Anthony's  house, — 
Dorr's  quarters.  A  detachment  then  went 
into  the  house,  but,  on  searching,  Dorr 
could  nowhere  be  found.  He  had,  it  was 
reported,  left  town.  A  portion  of  the 
cadets  volunteered  to  go  in  pursuit  of  him. 
They  instantly  mounted,  determined  to 
take  him  wherever  he  could  be  found,  but 
were  misinformed  as  to  his  route,  and 
returned  after  having  gone  in  the  direction 
of  the  Norwich  and  Worcester  railroad,  a 
distance  of  twenty  miles.  He  felt  keenly 
the  result  of  the  arsenal  affair,  and  the 
;  failure  of  his  forces  to  come  up  to  the 
mark. 

The  leaders,  on  the  part  of  the  suffrage 
party,  had  dismissed  their  men,  and  ad 
vised  them  to  retire  peaceably  from  the 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1770-1876. 


ground.  A  large  body  left  the  scene,  in 
compliance  with  this  request.  Others 
were  on  the  ground  to  a  large  number, 
and  around  the  cannons,  on  the  arrival  of 
the  body  of  citizens  under  King.  Many 
in  the  suffrage  ranks  cried  out  "fire"  but 
there  was  no  attempt  in  reality  to  obstruct 
the  passage  of  King's  men  in  surrounding 
the  house  and  taking  possession  of  the 
ground.  The  landholders,  under  the  di 
rection  of  the  United  States  marshal,  at 
the  instance  of  the  national  authorities, 
took  the  guns  and  arms  from  the  suffrage 


men  as  they  passed  through  the  streets  on 
their  way  home. 

It  being  pretty  generally  understood 
that  Dorr  had  gone  to  Connecticut,  a 
requisition  was  made  by  King  upon  Gov 
ernor  Cleveland,  of  that  state,  for  his  ren 
dition,  but  unsuccessfully.  A  reward  was 
also  offered  for  the  capture  of  Dorr  and 
his  delivery  to  the  charter  authorities,  for 
trial  on  charges  of  treason.  But  all  this 
was  ineffectual.  Indeed,  the  fugitive  rap 
idly  became  illustrious  out  of  his  own  state, 
to  a  degree  far  beyond  his  experience  at 
home.  Meetings  of  sympathy  for  him  and 
his  cause  were  held  in  several  of  the  large 


cities;  and  the  legislature  of  Maine,  act 
ing  at  the  suggestion  of  Governor  Fair- 
field,  passed  resolutions  of  a  similar  spirit. 
But,  notwithstanding  the  defeat  and  dis 
persion  of  the  suffrage  forces  on  the  eight 
eenth  of  Ma}',  and  the  disappearance  of 
Dorr,  no  means  or  efforts  were  being 
spared  by  the  latter  to  rally  his  friends 
around  him  in  sufficient  numbers  to  insure 
a  safe  return  to  the  state  and  a  reasser- 
tion  of  the  supremacy  of  the  people's  con 
stitution. 

In  a  few  weeks,  the  suffrage  friends  had 
entrenched  themselves  at  Alcot's  hill, 
Chepachet,  a  village  in  the  town  of 
Gloucester,  and  here,  by  proclamation 
from  Dorr,  the  legislature  was  sum 
moned  to  meet  on  the  fourth  of  July. 
The  expectation  was  now  general, 
throughout  the  state,  that  matters 
were  hourly  coming  to  a  final  test. 
In  anticipation  of  this,  martial  law 
was  declared  by  King,  and  every 
available  soldier  was  at  once  put  into 
the  ranks,  soon  numbering  several 
thousand.  Business  was  suspended, 
and  the  alarming  state  of  things  ab 
sorbed  all  thought  and  action.  Ma 
jor  General  William  Gibbs  McNeill 
was  in  command  of  the  landholders' 
army.  Dorr  arrived  at  the  encamp 
ment  of  his  followers,  at  two  oYlo<  k 
in  the  morning,  his  forco,  however, 
numbering  scarcely  one-fourth  that 
of  his  opponents,  though  he  was  well 
supplied  with  field-pieces,  arms,  and 
ammunition;  there  were  four  large  mar 
quees,  and  some  of  the  men  were  quartered 
in  a  barn.  The  encampment  occupied  a 
fine  location,  the  hill  being  eighty  feet 
high  and  commanding  the  Providence 
turnpike,  for  the  whole  range  of  cannon. 

At  about  half-past  four  o'clock  the  next 
morning,  General  McNeill  caused  a  body 
of  five  hundred  men,  under  Colonel  W.  AY. 
Brown,  to  proceed  from  Greenville  to  Che 
pachet,  a  distance  of  about  eight  miles. 
A  scout  party  of  the  infantry,  of  about  a 
dozen  men,  led  by  Lieutenant  Pitman, 
kept  in  advance  a  half  a  mile  to  two  miles. 
They  took  and  sent  to  the  rear,  thirty  per- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


413 


sons,  in  the  coarse  of 
the  march,  all  fugitives  from  the  Che- 
pachet  camp.  Upon  arriving  near  the 
fortification,  it  was  evident  that  the 
force  had  materially  decreased;  so 
much  so,  that  the  scout  party,  without 
waiting  for  the  advance  of  the  main 
body,  determined  on  entering  the  forti 
fication  alone.  No  resistance  was 
made  !  The  men  fled  in  confusion,  and 
the  scout  party  took  possession  with 
out  firing  a  gun.  The  fortifi 
cation  proved  to  be  quite  inade 
quate  for  any  hostile  military 
operations.  The  main  body 
immediately  arrived,  and,  the 
village  being  now  entirely  in 
their  power,  escape  was  impos 
sible,  and  a  large  num 
ber  of  prisoners  were 
taken,  and  a 


FI.NAL  WSPEKSIO*   OF  GOV.  UUKK  AJSD  HIS  FOKCKS. 


considerable  quantity 
of  arms.  Dorr  fled  to 
Connecticut,  accompa 
nied  by  a  few  of  his 
soldiers.  Governor 
King  offered,  again, 
a  large  reward  for  Gov 
ernor  Dorr's  capture, 
but  he  found  safe  quar 
ters  in  Connecticut 
and  New  Hampshire, 
until  he  voluntarily  re 
turned.  The  authorities  of  the  state 
at  once  took  him  into  custody,  and 
an  indictment  for  high  treason  hav 
ing  been  found  against  him,  he  was 
tried,  and  a  verdict  of  guilty  being  ren 
dered,  lie  was  sentenced  to  be  impris 
oned  for  life.  In  1847,  however,  Hon. 
Byron  Dinman  being  then  governor  of 
the  state,  Mr.  Dorr  was  pardoned ;  and 
in  1853,  during  the  administration  of 
Governor  Allen,  the  legislature  restored 


414 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


him  to  full  citizenship,  and  his  friends  also 
caused  the  official  record  of  his  sentence  to 
be  expunged.  His  death  occurred  the 
next  year,  but  not  until  the  measures  he 
had  espoused  were,  in  good  part,  engrafted 
upon  the  political  system  of  his  state,  and 
the  party  with  which  he  was  identified 
administering  its  public  affairs. 

Similar,  in  some  of  its  features,  to  the 
rebellion  in  Rhode  Island,  was  the  anti- 
rent  insurrection  in  the  state  of  New 
York,  the  origin  and  character  of  which, 
as  set  forth  by  Willard,  the  historian,  will 
sufficiently  appear  in  the  following  brief 
statement : 

Under  the  early  Dutch  government  of 
that  state,  certain  settlers  received  patents 
of  considerable  tracts  of  land,  that  of  Van 
Rensselaer  being  the  most  extensive, — 
comprising,  as  it  did,  the  greater  portion 
of  Albany  and  Rensselaer  counties  These 
lands  were  divided  into  farms  of  from  one 
hundred  to  one  hundred  and  sixty  acres, 
and  leased  in  perpetuity  on  condition  that 
the  tenant  pay  annually,  to  the  landlord 
or  'patroon,'  a  quantity  of  wheat,  from 
twenty-two  and  a  half  bushels  to  ten,  with 
four  fat  fowls,  and  a  day's  service  with 
wagon  and  horses.  If  the  tenant  sold  his 
lease,  the  landlord  was  entitled  to  one 
quarter  of  the  purchase  money.  The  land 


lord  was  also  entitled  to  certain  privileges 
on  all  water  power,  and  a  right  to  all 
mines. 

The  summer  of  1844  witnessed  the  most 
violent  disturbances  by  the  anti-rent  party 
in  the  eastern  towns  of  Rensselaer,  and 
the  Livingston  Manor  in  Columbia  county. 
The  anti-renters  formed  themselves  into  as 
sociations  to  resist  the  law,  and  armed  and 
trained  bands,  disguised  as  Indians,  scoured 
the  country,  crying  "Down  with  the 
Rent !  "  and,  in  various  ways,  intimidating 
those  who  favored  the  execution  of  the 
law.  In  1840,  Silas  Wright  was  chosen 
governor  of  the  state,  and  by  his  wisdom 
and  firmness  public  order  was  restored. 
By  proclamation,  he  declared  the  locality  in 
which  these  disorders  prevailed,  to  be  in  a 
a  state  of  insurrection  ;  resolute  men  were 
made  sheriffs,  military  force  was  brought 
into  requisition,  and  the  leading  anti-rent 
ers  arraigned  for  trial.  Some  of  these, 
convicted  of  murder,  were  condemned  to 
death,  but  their  punishment  commuted  to 
imprisonment  for  life.  Throughout  the 
whole  of  this  exciting  period,  there  were 
multitudes  who  S3rm  path  i  zed  with  those 
who  opposed  the  collection  of  the  rents, 
but  who  withheld  all  countenance  from 
those  measures  of  lawless  resistance,  to 
which  the  more  violent  resorted. 


XLVII. 

MUTINY  ON  BOARD  THE  UNITED  STATES  BRIG-OF-WAR 
SOMERS,  CAPTAIN  A.  S.  MACKENZIE.— 1842. 


Deep-Laid  Plot  to  Seize  tlie  Vessel,  Commit  Wholesale  Murder  of  Her  Men,  Raise  the  Black  Flap,  r.nd 
Convert  Her  into  a  Pirate. — All  Prizes  to  be  Plundered,  Burnt,  their  Crews  Butchered,  and  Women 
and  Girls  Ravished  — Midshipman  Spencer,  Son  of  a  United  States  Cabinet  Officer,  the  Ringleader. 
— The  Chief  Conspirators  Hung  at  the  Yard-Arm. — First  Mutiny  in  the  United  States  Navy. — Spen 
cer's  Hold  Upon  His  Comrades — Death  the  Penalty  of  Disclosure. — Confidence  Fortunately  Mis 
placed  — A  Man  of  Honor  Tampered  With. — Captain  Mackenzie  Informed  of  the  Plot. — Treats  it 
as  Wild  and  Improbable — Confronts  and  Questions  Spencer. — Orders  Him  to  be  Ironed  — Plan  Found 
in  His  Razor-Case. — Alarming  Disaffection  of  the  Crew. — None  of  the  Officers  Implicated  — Close 
Investigation  of  the  Case — Spencer,  Cromwell,  and  Small,  to  Die. — Their  Fate  Announced  to 
Them. — Spencer's  Account  of  His  Life. — They  Meet  On  Their  Way  to  be  Hung. — Treatment  of 
Each  Other. — Spencer  Begs  to  Give  the  Last  Signal. — Closing  Scene  of  the  Tragedy. — All  Hands 
Cheer  the  Ship  — Raising  the  Banner  of  the  Cross. 


"I  am  leagued  to  get  possession  of  the  vessel,  murder  the  commander  and  officers, 
choose  from  among  the  crew  who  are  willing  to  join  me  such  at  will  be  useful,  murder 
the  rest,  and  commence  pirating;  to  attu-k  no  vessels  that  I  am  not  sure  to  capture; 
to  destroy  every  vestige  of  the  captured  vessels;  and  to  select  such  of  the  female  pawcn- 
RITS  us  are  suitable,  and,  after  using  them  sufficiently,  to  dispose  of  them." — MPEMCID'S 
DECLARATION. 


''fe>*- 


THE  BLACK  FLAG. 


EENLY  was  the  heart  of  the  universal  American 
nation  wrung,  in  December,  1842,  at  the  story  of  the 
mutiny  and  tragedy  on  board  the  United  States  brig 
Somers,  then  under  the  command  of  Captain  Alex 
ander  Slidell  Mackenzie.  The  chief  ringleader  in 
this  deep-dyed  and  amazing  plot  of  crime  and  blood, 
was  no  less  a  person  than  Midshipman  Philip  Spen 
cer,  son  of  the  distinguished  statesman,  Hon.  John  C.  Spencer,  of  New  York,  secretary- 
of-war  under  President  Tyler, — officiating  in  that  capacity  at  the  very  time  of  the 
ghastly  occurrences  here  recited. 

In  the  whole  history  of  the  American  navy,  this  act  stands  out  \)y  itself,  without  a 
parallel  or  precedent;  and,  surely,  no  pen  of  romance  could  weave  a  tale  of  imaginary 
crime  equal  in  ghastly  horror  to  this  startling  chapter — the  first  regularly  organized 
mutiny  in  the  annals  of  the  United  States  naval  service. 

The  development  of  the  mutinous  scheme  transpired  on  the  voyage  of  the  Somers  to 
the  United  States  from  Liberia,  from  which  place  she  sailed  on  the  eleventh  of  Novem 
ber,  intending  to  proceed  home  via  St.  Thomas.  It  was  on  Saturday,  the  twenty-sixth 
of  November,  that  Lieutenant  Gansevoort  went  into  the  cabin  and  informed  Captain 
Mackenzie  that  a  conspiracy  existed  on  board  of  the  brig  to  capture  her,  murder  the 
commander,  the  officers,  and  most  of  the  crew,  and  convert  her  into  a  pirate,  acting 
Midshipman  Philip  Spencer  being  at  the  head  of  it.  He  stated  that  Purser  Hieskell 


416 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


had  just  informed  him  that  Mr.  Wales, 
his  steward,  had  approached  him  as  if  to 
converse  on  their  joint  duty,  and  revealed 
to  him,  for  the  purpose  of  its  being  com 
municated  to  the  commander,  important 
information.  This  was,  that,  on  the  night 
previous,  being  November  twenty-fifth,  he, 
Wales,  had  been  accosted  by  Spencer,  and 
invited  by  him  to  get  up  on  the  booms,  as 
he  had  something  uncommon  to  say. 
When  on  the  booms,  Spencer  addressed 
him  as  follows : 

"Do  yon  fear  death  ?  Do  you  fear  a 
dead  man  ?  Are  you  afraid  to  kill  a 
man?" 

Mr.  Wales,  thus  accosted,  and  having 
his  curiosity  excited,  with  admirable  cool 
ness  induced  Spencer  to  go  on,  and  took 
the  oath  of  secrecy  which  was  administered 
to  him.     Spencer  then  informed  him  that 
he  was  leagued  with  about  twenty  of  the 
crew   to   get    possession    of    the    vessel, 
murder  the  commander  and  officers,  choose 
from  among  those  of  the  crew  who  were 
willing    to   join    him    such    as    would    be 
useful,  and  murder  the  rest  and  commence 
pirating.     He  mentioned  all  the  details  of 
the  plan,  and  which  was  well  suited  to  the 
attainment    of    his    object — involving,  in 
deed,  much  better  notions  of  seamanship 
than  he  himself  was  capable   of  forming. 
As  one  of  the  inducements  to  her  capture, 
lie  stated  that  a  box,  containing  wine  of 
rare  value,  brought  off  with  much  care  at 
Madeira,  as  a   present   from  the    United 
States  consul  at  Funchal   to   Commodore 
Nicholson,  contained  money  or  treasure  to 
a  large  amount.     It  was  his  purpose  to 
carry  the  vessel  to  the  Isle  of  Pines,  where 
one  of  his  associates,  who  had  been  in  the 
business  before,  had  friends;  to  attack  no 
vessels  that  he  was  not  sure  to  capture;  to 
destroy    every    vestige    of  the    captured 
vessels,    after   having  removed  what  was 
useful ;  to  select  such  of   the  female   pas 
sengers  as  were  suitable,  and,  after  they 
had  used  them  sufficiently,  to  dispose  of 
them.     Spencer  also  stated  that  he  had 
the  written  plan  of  his  project  in  the  back 
of  his  cravat,  which  he  would  show  to  Mr. 
Wales   in   the   morning.     On    separating, 


Spencer  gave  expression  to  terrible  threats 
of  instant  death  to  Wales  from  himself  or 
his  accomplices,  should  Wales  utter  one 
word  of  what  had  passed. 

So  monstrous  and  improbable   did   this 
project  appear  to  Captain  Mackenzie,   as 
thus  related  to  him  by  Lieutenant  Ganse- 
voort,  that  he  at  first  treated  it  with  ridi 
cule,    premising    that    Spencer   had   been 
reading  some   piratical  stories,   and   then 
amused  himself  with  working  upon  Wales's 
credulity.     Considering  it,  however,  to  be 
his  duty   to  be  on   his   guard,  lest    there 
should  be  even  a  shadow  of  reality  in  the 
scheme,  Mackenzie  directed  his  first  lieu 
tenant,  Gansevoort,  to  watch  Spencer  nar 
rowly,  without,  of  course,  seeming  to  do  so. 
In   the  course   of  the    day,   Lieutenant 
Gansevoort  gave  information  that  Spencer 
had  been  in   the   wardroom  examining  a 
chart  of  the  West   Indies,  and  had  asked 
the  assistant  surgeon  some  questions  about 
the    Isle  of  Pines,   the   surgeon   replying 
that  it  was  a  place   much  frequented  by 
pirates,  and  dryly  asking  him  in  return  if 
he     had    any    acquaintances    there.       He 
passed    the  day    rather    sullenly   in   one 
corner  of  the  steerage,  as  was  his  custom, 
engaged  in  examing  a  small  piece  of  paper 
and    writing    on    it   with  his  pencil,   and 
occasionally  finding  relaxation  in  working 
with  a  penkife  at  the  tail  of  a  devil-fish, 
one  of  the  joints  of  which  he  had  formed 
into  a  sliding-ring  for  his  cravat.     He  had 
endeavored,  too,  for  some  days,  to  ascertain 
the  rate  of  the  chronometer,  by  applying 
to  Midshipman  Rodgers,  to  whom  it  was 
unknown,   and  who    referred    him  to   the 
master.     With  boatswain's  mate  F.  Crom 
well,   and   Elisha  Small,  seaman,  he   was 
seen  in  secret  and  nightly  conferences,  and 
to  both  of  these  he  had  given  mone^y,  as 
well  as  to  others  of  the  crew  ;  he  had  dis 
tributed    tobacco    extensively    among    the 
apprentices,    in     defiance     of     reiterated 
orders ;  corrupting  the  wardroom  steward, 
he  caused  him  to   steal   brandy   from  the 
wardroom  mess,  with  which  Spencer  not 
only  got  drunk  himself,  but  administered 
it  to  several  of  the  crew.     Though  servile 
in  his  intercourse  with  Captain  Mackenzie, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


417 


when  among  the  crew  Spencer  loaded  him 
with  blasphemous  vituperation,  and  pro 
claimed  that  it  would  be  a  pleasing  task 
to  roll  him  overboard  off  the  round-house. 
At  one  time  lie  drew  a  brig  with  a  black 
flay,  and  asked  one  of  the  midshipmen 
what  he  thought  of  it ;  he  repeatedly 
asserted,  in  the  early  part  of  the  cruise, 
that  the  brig  might  be  easily  taken;  and, 
a  short  time  prior  to  the  revelation  of  the 
plot,  he  had  examined  the  hand  of  Mid 
shipman  Rodgers,  told  his  fortune,  and 
predicted  for  him  a  speedy  and  violent 
death.  These  and  various  other  circum 
stances,  determined  Captain  Mackenzie  to 
make  sure  at  once  of  Spencer's  person, 
and,  accordingly,  at  evening  quarters,  all 
the  officers  were  ordered  to  lay  aft  on  the 
quarter-deck,  excepting  the  midshipman 
stationed  on  the  forecastle.  The  master 
was  ordered  to  take  the  wheel,  and  those 
of  the'  crew  stationed  abaft  sent  to  the 
mainmast.  Captain  Mackenzie  now  ap 
proached  Spencer,  and  said  to  him — 


cSf{joj<yf&+~\*^£- 


"  I  learn,  Mr.  Spencer,  that  you  aspire 
to  the  command  of  the  Somers." 

"Oh  no,  sir,"  replied  Spencer,  with  a 
deferential,  but  unmoved  and  gently  smil 
ing  expression. 

"  Did  you  not  tell  Mr.  Wales,  sir,  that 
27 


you  had  a  project  to  kill  the  commander, 
the  officers,  and  a  considerable  portion  of 
the  crew  of  this  vessel,  and  to  convert  her 
into  a  pirate  ?  " 

"  I  may  have  told  him  so,  sir,  but  it  was 
in  joke." 

"You  admit,  then,  that  you  told  him 
so?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  but  in  joke ! " 

"This,  sir,  is  joking  on  a  forbidden  sub 
ject — this  joke  may  cost  you  your  life ! 
Be  pleased  to  remove  your  neck  handker 
chief." 

"What  have  you  done  with  the  paper 
containing  an  account  of  your  project, 
which  you  told  Mr.  Wales  was  in  the  back 
of  your  neck  handkerchief?"  —  nothing 
being  now  found  in  it. 

"It  is  a  paper  containing  my  day's 
work,  and  I  have  destroyed  it." 

"It  is  a  singular  place  to  keep  days' 
work  in." 

"  It  is  a  convenient  one,"  was  the  defer 
ential  and  bland  reply. 

"You  must  have  been  aware  that  you 
could  only  have  compassed  your  designs 
by  passing  over  my  dead  bod}',  and  after 
that  the  bodies  of  all  the  officers.  You 
had  given  yourself,  sir,  a  great  deal  to  do. 
It  will  be  necessary  for  me  to  confine  you, 
sir ; "  saying  which,  Captain  Mackenzie 
turned  to  Lieutenant  Gansevoort  with  the 
order — "  Arrest  Mr.  Spencer,  and  put  him 
in  double  irons." 

Lieutenant  Gansevoort  stepped  forward, 
and,  taking  Spencer's  sword,  ordered  him 
to  be  double  ironed,  and,  as  an  additional 
security,  handcuffed.  Lieutenant  Ganse 
voort  was  directed  to  keep  a  constant  watch 
upon  Spencer,  to  answer  all  his  wants,  but 
to  have  him  instantly  put  to  death  if 
detected  in  speaking  to  or  holding  intelli 
gence  in  any  way  with  the  crew. 

On  searching  Spencer's  locker,  a  small 
razor-case  was  found,  which  he  had  re 
cently  drawn  from  the  purser,  with  a 
razor  in  it.  Instead  of  the  razor,  the  case 
was  found  to  contain  a  small  paper,  rolled 
in  another ;  on  the  inner  one  were  strange 
characters,  which  proved  to  be  Greek,  a 
language  understood  by  Spencer.  It  for- 


418 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


tunately  happened  that  Midshipman  Rod- 
gers  was  also  acquainted  with  Greek,  and, 
on  his  converting  the  characters  into  En 
glish,  they  exhibited  well-known  names 
among  the  crew.  The  certain — the  doubt 
ful — those  who  were  to  be  kept  whether 
they  would  join  or  not — those  who  were  to 
do  the  work  of  murder  in  the  various  de 
partments,  to  take  the  wheel,  to  open  the 
arm-chests  —  were  arranged  in  separate 
rows. 

The  next  day,  the  crew  were  inspected 
at  quarters,  at  ten  o'clock,  Captain  Mac 
kenzie  taking  his  station  abaft,  with  the 
intention  of  particularly  observing  Crom 
well  and  Small.  The  persons  of  both  were 
faultlessly  clean.  Cromwell  stood  up  to 
his  full  stature,  his  muscles  braced,  his 
battle-axe  grasped  resolutely,  his  cheek 
pale,  but  his  eye  fixed  as  indifferently,  at 
the  other  side,  and  he  had  a  determined 
and  dangerous  air.  Small  made  a  very 
different  figure ;  his  appearance  was 
ghastly;  he  shifted  his  weight  from  side 
to  side,  and  his  battle-axe  passed  from  one 
hand  to  the  other ;  his  eye  wandered  irres 
olutely,  but  never  towards  Captain  Mac 
kenzie.  Cromwell  was  the  tallest  man 
on  board,  Small  the  shortest. 

From  the  known  complicity  of  Cromwell 
in  the  plot,  he  was  brought  to  the  quarter 
deck  at  night,  where  Captain  Mackenzie 
caused  him  to  sit  down,  and,  on  question 
ing  him  as  to  a  secret  conversation  he  had 
held  the  night  before  with  Spencer,  he 
denied  its  being  him,  and  said,  "  It  was 
not  me,  sir,  it  was  Small."  Cromwell  was 
immediately  ironed;  and  Small,  thus 
pointed  out  by  an  associate  to  increased 
suspicion,  was  also  sent  for,  interrogated, 
and  ironed.  Increased  vigilance  was  now 
enjoined  upon  all  the  officers  ;  henceforward 
all  were  perpetually  armed ;  ajid  either 
the  captain  or  his  first  lieutenant  was 
'always  on  deck,  and  generally  both  of 
them  were.  Several  acts  of  disobedience 
occurring  among  the  ship's  company,  pun 
ishment  was  inflicted  upon  the  transgres 
sors  to  the  full  extent  of  the  law ;  after 
which,  Captain  Mackenzie  took  occasion  to 
address  the  crew,  explaining  to  them  the 


general  nature  of  Spencer's  project,  en 
deavoring  to  divert  the  minds  of  the 
slightly  disaffected  from  the  pictures  of 
successful  vice  which  the  piratical  plot 
presented,  and  informing  them  that  the 
majority  of  them,  whatever  might  be  their 
inclinations,  were  to  share  the  fate  of  the 
officers.  It  is  an  interesting  fact,  that 
every  one  of  the  officers  of  the  Somers, 
from  the  first  lieutenant  to  the  command 
er's  clerk,  proved  faithful,  chivalrous,  and 
patriotic,  from  first  to  last. 

The  effect  of  the  captain's  address  was 
various,  upon  the  minds  of  the  crew.  It 
filled  many  with  horror  at  the  idea  of  what 
they  had  escaped  from  ;  it  inspired  others 
with  terror  at  the  danger  awaiting  them 
from  their  connection  with  the  conspiracy ; 
but  the  whole  crew  was  far  from  tranquil 
lized.  The  most  seriously  implicated 
began  once  more  to  collect  in  knots  during 
the  night.  Seditious  words  were  heard 
through  the  vessel,  and  an  insolent  and 
menacing  air  assumed  by  many.  Some  of 
the  petty  officers  had  been  sounded  by  the 
first  lieutenant,  and  found  to  be  true  to 
their  colors.  They  were  under  the  impres 
sion  that  the  vessel  was  yet  far  from  safe, 
and  that  an  outbreak  having  for  its  object 
the  release  of  the  prisoners  was  seriously 
contemplated. 

This  alarming  state  of  disaffection,  the 
increased  number  who  missed  their  muster, 
repeated  acts  of  insubordination,  together 
with  other  considerations,  induced  Captain 
Mackenzie  to  have  a  thorough  inspection 
of  the  crew,  the  immediate  arrest  of  those 
principally  suspected,  and,  on  the  thirtieth 
of  November,  he  addressed  a  letter  to  all 
the  officers  on  board,  excepting  the  mid 
shipmen,  asking  their  opinion  as  to  what 
additional  measures  were  necessary  to  the 
security  of  the  vessel.  On  receipt  of  this 
letter,  all  the  officers  assembled  in  the 
wardroom  and  commenced  the  examination 
of  witnesses.  The  witnesses  were  duly 
sworn,  the  testimony  accurately  written 
down,  and,  in  addition  to  the  oath,  each 
witness  signed  the  evidence  which  he  had 
given,  after  hearing  it  read  over  to  him. 

Without  interruption  and  without  food, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


419 


the  officers  continued  in  their  occupation  a 
whole  day,  and  the  unanimous  result  of 
their  deliberations  was,  that  Spencer, 
Cronnvell,  and  Small  should  be  put  to 
death. 

In  the  justice  of  this  opinion  Captain 
Mackenzie  at  once  concurred,  and  in  the 
necessity  of  carrying  its  recommendation 
into  immediate  effect.  The  petty  officers 
were  now  mustered  on  the  quarter-deck, 
and  they  were  each  armed  with  a  cutlass, 
pistol,  and  cartridge-box,  after  which  the 
captain  said  to  them, 

"  My  lads  !  you  are  to  look  at  me — to 
obey  my  orders — and  to  see  my  orders 
obeyed  !  Go  forward  !  " 

The  captain  now  gave  orders  that  imme 
diate  preparations  be  made  for  hanging  the 
three  principal  criminals  at  the  main  yard- 
arm  ;  and  all  hands  were  called  to  witness 
the  punishment.  The  after  guard  and 
idlers  of  both  watches  were  mustered  on 
the  quarter-deck  at  the  whip  intended  for 
Spencer;  the  forecastlemen  and  foretop- 


men  at  that  of  Cromwell,  to  whose  corrup 
tion  they  had  been  chiefly  exposed ;  and 
the  maintopmen  of  both  watches  at  that 
intended  for  Small,  who  for  a  month  or 
more  had  filled  the  situation  of  captain  of 
the  maintop.  The  officers  were  stationed 
about  the  decks,  and  the  petty  officers 
similarly  distributed,  with  orders  to  cut 
down  whoever  should  let  go  the  whip  with 
even  one  hand  or  failed  to  haul  on  it  when 
ordered.  The  ensign  and  pennant  being 


!  bent  011  and  ready  for  hoisting,  Captain 
Mackenzie  put  on  his  full  uniform,  and 
proceeded  to  execute  the  most  painful 
duty  that  had  ever  devolved  on  an  Ameri 
can  commander — that  of  announcing  to 
the  criminals  their  fate.  To  Spencer  he 
said: 

"  When  you  were  about  to  take  my  life, 
and  to  dishonor  me  as  an  officer  while  in 
the  execution  of  my  rightful  duty,  without 
cause  of  offense  to  you,  on  speculation,  it 
was  your  intention  to  remove  me  suddenly 
from  the  world,  in  the  darkness  of  the 
night,  in  my  sleep,  without  a  moment  to 
utter  one  whisper  of  affection  to  my  wife 
and  children — one  prayer  for  their  welfare. 
Your  life  is  now  forfeited  to  your  country  ; 
and  the  necessities  of  the  case,  growing 
out  of  your  corruption  of  the  crew,  compel 
me  to  take  it.  I  will  not,  however,  imi 
tate  your  intended  example  as  to  the 
manner  of  claiming  the  sacrifice.  If  there 
yet  remains  to  you  one  feeling  true  to 
nature,  it  shall  be  gratified.  If  you  have 
any  word  to  send  to  your  parents,  it  shall 
be  recorded,  and  faithfully  delivered.  Ten 
minutes  shall  be  granted  you  for  this  pur 
pose." 

This  intimation  entirely  overcame  him. 
He  sank,  with  tears,  upon  his  knees,  and 
said  he  was  not  fit  to  die.  Captain  Mac 
kenzie  repeated  to  him  his  own  catechism, 
and  begged  him  at  least  to  let  the  officer 
set  to  the  men  he  had  corrupted  and  se 
duced,  the  example  of  dying  with  decorum. 
This  immediately  restored  him  to  entire 
self-possession,  and,  while  he  was  engaged 
in  prayer,  Captain  Mackenzie  went  and 
made  in  succession  the  same  communica 
tion  to  Cromwell  and  Small.  Cromwell 
fell  upon  his  knees  completely  unmanned, 
protested  his  innocence,  and  invoked  the 
name  of  his  wife.  Spencer  said:  "As 
these  are  the  last  words  I  have  to  say,  I 
trust  they  will  be  believed:  Cromwell  is 
innocent!"  Though  the  evidence  had 
been  conclusive,  Captain  Mackenzie  was 
staggered,  and  at  once  consulted  Lieu 
tenant  Gansevoort,  who  said  there  was  not 
a  shadow  of  doubt.  He  was  told  to  con 
sult  the  petty  officers;  he  was  condemned, 


420 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


by  acclamation  by  them  all,  as  the  one 
man  of  whom  they  had  real  apprehen 
sion.  Spencer  probably  wished  to  save 
Cromwell,  in  fulfillment  of  some  mutual 
oath;  or,  more  likely,  he  hoped  he 
might  yet  get  possession  of  the  vessel, 
and  carry  out  the  scheme  of  murder 
and  outrage  matured  between  them. 
Small  alone,  who  had  been  set  down 
as  the  poltroon  of  the  three,  received 
the  announcement  of  his  fate  with  com 
posure.  When  asked  if  he  had  any 
messages  to  send,  he  said,  "  I  have 
nobody  to  care  for  me  but  my  poor  old 
mother,  and  I  had  rather  she  should 
know  how  I  have  died."  On  Captain 
Mackenzie  returning  again  to  Spencer,  and 
asking  him  if  he  had  no  messages  to  send 
to  his  friends,  he  answered,  "None  that 
they  would  wish  to  receive."  Subse 
quently  he  said  : 

"Tell  them  I  die,  wishing  them  every 
blessing  and  happiness.  I  deserve  death 
for  this  and  many  other  crimes.  There 
are  few  crimes  that  I  have  not  committed. 
I  feel  sincerely  penitent,  and  my  only  fear 
of  death  is,  that  my  repentance  may  be 
too  late.  I  have  wronged  many  persons, 
but  chiefly  my  parents.  This  will  kill  my 
poor  mother  !  I  do  not  know  what  would 
have  become  of  me  had  I  succeeded.  I 
fear  this  may  injure  my  father.  I  will 
tell  you  frankly  what  I  intended  to  do, 
had  I  got  home — I  should  have  attempted 
to  escape.  I  had  the  same  project  on 
board  the  John  Adams  and  Potomac.  It 
seemed  to  be  a  mania  with  me." 

In  reply  to  Spencer's  question  whether 
the  law  would  justify  the  commander  in 
taking  life  under  such  circumstances,  Cap 
tain  Mackenzie  assured  him  that  it  would; 
that  he  had  consulted  all  his  brother  offi 
cers,  his  messmates  included,  except  the 
boys,  and  their  opinion  had  been  placed 
before  him.  He  stated  that  it  was  just, 
and  that  he  deserved  death.  He  asked 
what  was  to  be  the  manner  of  his  death. 
Captain  Mackenzie  explained  it  to  him. 
He  objected  to  it,  and  asked  to  be  shot. 
He  was  told  that  no  distinction  could  be 
made  between  him  and  those  he  had  cor 


rupted.  He  admitted  that  this  also  was 
just.  He  objected  to  the  shortness  of  the 
time  for  preparation,  and  asked  for  an 
hour.  No  answer  was  made  to  this 
request ;  but  he  was  not  hurried,  and 
more  than  the  hour  which  he  asked  for 
was  allowed  to  elapse.  He  requested  that 
his  face  might  be  covered  ;  this  was  read 
ily  granted,  and  he  was  asked  what  it 
should  be  covered  with ;  he  did  not  care. 
A  handkerchief  was  sought  for  in  his 
locker ;  none  but  a  black  one  could  be 
found,  and  this  was  brought  for  the  purpose. 

It  was  now  ordered  that  the  other 
criminals  should  be  consulted  as  to  their 
wishes  in  this  particular.  They  joined 
in  the  request,  and  frocks  were  taken 
from  their  bags  to  cover  their  heads. 
Spencer  asked  to  have  his  irons  removed; 
but  this  was  not  granted.  He  asked 
for  a  bible  and  prayer-book ;  they  were 
brought,  and  others  ordered  to  be  fur 
nished  to  his  accomplices.  He  then 
said  to  Captain  Mackenzie,  "I  am  a  be 
liever  !  Do  you  think  that  any  repent 
ance  at  this  late  hour  can  be  accepted  ?  " 
In  reply  to  this,  the  captain  called  to 
his  recollection  the  case  of  the  penitent 
thief  who  was  pardoned  upon  the  cross. 
He  then  read  in  the  bible,  kneeled  down, 
and  read  in  the  prayer-book.  He  again 
asked  the  captain  if  he  thought  that 
his  repentance  could  be  accepted,  the 
time  being  so  short,  and  he  did  not  know 
if  he  was  really  changed.  In  answer  to 
this,  he  was  told  that  God,  who  was  all- 
merciful  as  well  as  all-wise,  could  not  only 
understand  the  difficulties  of  the  situ 
ation,  but  extend  to  him  such  a  measure  of 
mercy  as  his  necessities  might  require. 
He  said,  "  I  beg  your  forgiveness  for  what 
I  have  meditated  against  you."  Captain 
Mackenzie  gave  him  his  hand,  and  assured 
him  of  his  sincere  forgiveness. 

More  than  an  hour  was  occupied  in  this 
scene.  The  petty  officers  had  been  as 
signed,  according  to  rank,  to  conduct  the 
several  prisoners  to  the  gang-way.  At  the 
break  of  the  quarter-deck  was  a  narrow 
passage  between  the  trunk  and  pump-well. 
Spencer  and  Cromwell  met  exactly  on 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


421 


either  side.    The  captain  directed 
Cromwell  to  stop,  to  allow  Spen 
cer  to  pass  first.     At  this  mo 
ment    Spencer    himself   paused, 
and  asked  to  be  allowed  to  see 
Mr.  Wales.     He  was  called,  and 
;ip  Cromwell  now  passed  on,  almost 
touching   Spencer.     When    Mr. 
Wales    came    up,    Spencer    ex 
tended  his  hand  to  him  and  said, 
"Mr.    Wales,    I  earnestly  hope 
you  will  forgive  me  for  tamper 
ing  with  your  fidelity  !  "     Spen 
cer    was    wholly   unmoved,   Mr. 
Wales  almost  overcome  with  emotion  while  he 
replied,   "  I   do  forgive  you  from   the   bottom 
of  my  heart,  and  I  hope  that  God  will  forgive 
you  also!"     " Farewell,"  exclai med  Spencer; 
and  Mr.  Wales,  weeping,  and  causing  others 
HANGING  OF  IUJJGLEADE'KS'FROM" THE^YAiu>-AnM.  to  weep,  responded  "Farewell/" 


422 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Spencer  now  passed  on.  At  the  gang 
way  he  met  Small.  With  the  same  calm 
manner,  but  with  a  nearer  approach  to 
emotion,  he  placed  himself  in  front  of 
Small,  extended  his  hand,  and  said,  "Small, 
forgive  me  for  leading  you  into  this 
trouble."  Small  drew  back  with  horror. 
"  No,  by  God  !  Mr,  Spencer,  I  can't  for 
give  you!"  On  a  repetition  of  the  re 
quest,  Small  exclaimed  in  a  searching 
voice,  "  Ah,  Mr.  Spencer,  that  is  a  hard 
thing  for  you  to  ask  me  !  We  shall  soon 
be  before  the  face  of  God,  and  then  we 
shall  know  all  about  it!"  Captain  Mac 
kenzie  went  to  Small,  urging  him  to  be 
more  generous — that  this  was  no  time  for 
resentment.  He  relented  at  once,  held 
out  his  hand  to  take  the  still  extended 
hand  of  Mr.  Spencer,  and  said  with  frank 
ness  and  emotion,  "I  do  forgive  you,  Mr. 
Spencer  !  May  God  Almighty  forgive  you 
also !  "  After  some  farewell  words  with 
Captain  Mackenzie,  he  said,  turning  to 
those  who  held  the  ship,  "  Now,  brother 
topmates,  give  me  a  quick  and  easy  death!" 
He  was  placed  on  the  hammocks  forward 
of  the  gangway,  with  his  face  inboard; 
Spencer  was  similarly  placed  abaft  the 
gangway ;  and  Cromwell  also  on  the  other 
side. 

About  this  time,  Spencer  sent  for  Lieu 
tenant  Gansevoort,  and  told  him  that  he 
might  have  heard  that  his  courage  had 
been  doubted ;  he  wished  him  to  bear  tes 
timony  that  he  died  like  a  brave  man.  He 
then  asked  the  captain,  what  was  to  be  the 
signal  for  execution  ;  the  captain  said, 
that,  being  desirous  to  hoist  the  colors  at 
the  moment  of  execution,  at  once  to  give 
solemnity  to  the  act  and  to  indicate  by  it 
that  the  colors  of  the  Somers  were  fixed  to 
the  mast-head,  it  was  his  intention  to  beat 
to  call  as  for  hoisting  the  colors,  then  roll 
off,  and  at  the  third  roll  fire  a  gun.  Spen 
cer  asked  to  be  allowed  himself  to  give  the 
word  to  fire  the  gun ;  this  request  was 
granted,  and  the  drum  and  fife  were  dis 
missed.  He  asked  if  the  gun  was  under 
him,  and  was  told  that  it  was  next  but 
one  to  him.  He  begged  that  no  interval 
might  elapse  between  giving  the  word 


and  firing  the  gun.  Captain  Mackenzie 
asked  if  the}'  were  firing  with  the  lock  and 
wafer,  which  had  always  proved  quick  and 
sure,  but  was  told  that  they  had  a  tube  and 
priming,  and  were  prepared  to  fire  with  u 
match.  Some  delay  would  have  ensued, 
to  open  the  arm  chest  and  get  out  a  wafer. 
The  captain  ordered  a  supply  of  live  coals 
to  be  passed  up  from  the  galley,  and  fresh 
ones  continually  supplied ;  then  assured 
Spencer  there  would  be  no  delay. 

Time  still  wearing  away  in  this  manner, 
Small  requested  leave  to  address  the  crew. 
Spencer,  having  leave  to  give  the  word, 
was  asked  if  he  would  consent  to  the 
delay.  He  assented,  and  Small's  face 
being  uncovered,  he  spoke  as  follows: 
"Shipmates  and  topmates!  take  warning 
by  my  example.  I  never  was  a  pirate.  I 
never  killed  a  man.  It's  for  saying  I 
would  do  it,  that  I  am  about  to  depart  this 
life.  See  what  a  word  will  do !  It  was 
going  in  a  Guineaman  that  brought  me  to 
this.  Beware  of  a  Guineaman."  He 
turned  to  Spencer  and  said  to  him,  "  I  am 
now  ready  to  die,  Mr.  Spencer,  are  you?" 
Cromwell's  last  words  were,  "  Tell  my  wife 
I  die  an  innocent  man;  tell  Lieutenant 
Morris  I  die  an  innocent  man!"  It  had 
been  the  game  of  this  leading  conspirator 
to  appear  innocent. 

Captain  Mackenzie  now  placed  himself 
on  a  trunk,  in  a  situation  from  which  his 
eye  could  take  in  everything,  and  waited 
for  some  time;  but  no  word  came.  At 
length,  the  captain  was  informed  that 
Spencer  said  he  could  not  give  the  word — 
that  he  wished  the  commander  to  give  the 
word  himself.  The  gun  was  accordingly 
fired,  and  the  execution  took  place  !  The 
three  conspirators  against  their  country, 
their  flag,  their  comrades  and  mankind, 
swung  lifeless  in  the  air,  from  the  yard- 
arm  ; — a  fate  richly  deserved,  at  least  by 
him  who  had  atrociously  declared  :  "  I  am 
leagued  to  get  possession  of  the  vessel, 
murder  the  commander  and  officers,  choose 
from  among  those  of  the  crew  who  are 
willing  to  join  me  such  as  will  be  useful, 
murder  the  rest,  and  commence  pirating ; 
to  attack  no  vessels  that  I  am  not  sure  to 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


423 


capture ;  to  destroy  every  vestige  of  the 
captured  vessels ;  and  to  select  such  of  the 
female  passengers  as  are  suitable,  and, 
after  using  them  sufficiently,  to  dispose  of 
them." 

The  crew  were  now  ordered  aft,  and 
were  addressed  by  Captain  Mackenzie, 
from  the  trunk  on  which  he  was  standing ; 
after  which,  the  crew  were  piped  down 
from  witnessing  punishment,  and  all  hands 
called  to  cheer  the  ship.  Captain  Mac 
kenzie  himself  gave  the  order — "  Stand  by 
to  give  three  hearty  cheers  for  the  flag  of 
our  country  !  "  Never  were  three  heartier 
•cheers  given.  On  the  following  Sunday, 
after  the  laws  for  the  government  of  the 
navy  had  been  read,  as  usual  on  the  first 
Sunday  of  the  month,  the  crew  were  again 
impressively  addressed  by  Captain  Mac 
kenzie,  and,  in  conclusion,  he  told  them 
that  as  they  had  shown  that  they  could 
give  cheers  for  their  country,  they  should 
now  give  cheers  to  their  God, — for  they 


would  do  this  when  they  sang  praises  to 
his  name.  The  colors  were  now  hoisted, 
and,  above  the  American  ensign,  the  only 
banner  to  which  it  may  give  place, — the 
banner  of  the  cross.  And  now,  over  the 
vasty  deep,  there  resounded  that  joyous 
song  of  adoration,  the  hundredth  psalm, 
sung  by  all  the  officers  and  crew. 

On  the  arrival  home,  of  the  Somers,  the 
tragedy  was  investigated  by  a  court  of 
inquiry,  consisting  of  Commodores  Stewart, 
Jacob  Jones,  and  Dallas,  and  Captain 
Mackenzie's  course  was  fully  approved. 
A  court-martial  was  also  subsequently 
held,  at  his  personal  request,  of  which 
Commodore  John  Downes  was  president, 
and  the  trial,  which  lasted  forty  days, 
resulted  in  his  acquittal.  One  of  the 
ablest  reviews  of  this  case,  was  that 
by  Mr.  J.  Fenimore  Cooper,  in  which 
Mackenzie's  course  was  condemned ;  but 
the  popular  opinion  was  greatly  in  his 
favor. 


XLVIII. 

SUDDEN  APPEARANCE  OF  A  GREAT  AND  FIERY  COMET 
IN  THE  SKIES  AT  NOONDAY.— 1843. 


It  Sweeps  Through  the  Heavens,  for  Several  Weeks,  with  a  Luminous  Train  108,000,000  Miles  in 
Length.— Almost  Grazes  the  Sun,  and,  after  Whirling  Around  that  Orb  with  Prodigious  Velocity, 
Approaches  the  Earth  with  a  Fearful  Momentum — Its  Mysterious  Disappearance  in  the  Unknown 
Realms  and  Depths  of  Space  —Most  Notable  of  all  Comets.— First  Visible  in  the  Day-time  —Its 
Conspicuous  Aspect — Strange  and  Threatening  Motion  — Its  Course  Towards  the  Sun. — Their 
Supposed  Contact — Becomes  Red  in  Passing. — Recedes  Straight  to  the  Earth. — Watched  with 
Deep  Concern. — The  Magnetic  Needle  Agitated. — Wide  Fears  of  a  Collision. — Its  Probable  Result 
— Indian  Terror  and  Prediction. — Triumphs  of  Astronomy. — Diameter  of  the  Comet's  Head. — 
Measurement  of  its  Tail. — Stars  Seen  Through  the  Train. — Appearance  in  the  Equator. — Like  a 
Stream  of  Molten  Fire.— Beautiful  Ocean  Reflection.— Double  Sweep  of  the  Tail. — Other  Comet- 
ary  Phenomena. 


"  A  pathle»i  comet, 

The  menace  of  the  universe; 
Still  rolling  on  with  innate  force. 
Without  a  uphere,  without  a  course." 


USUALLY,  the  name  or  word  'comet'  is  applied  to  bodies  which 
appear  in  the  heavens  with  a  train,  or  tail,  of  light ;  but  it  is 
now  not  uncommon  to  apply  the  term  to  those  heavenly  bodies, 
beyond  the  limits  of  the  earth's  atmosphere,  which  are  nebulous 
in  their  appearance,  and  with  or  without  a  tail.  It  is,  however, 
the  class  first  named,  which  includes  the  most  wonderful  ex- 
- —  |  mi. "  =  amples  of  this  phenomenon  in  modern  times;  and,  in  connec 

tion  with  the  splendid  visitant  of  this  kind  that  appeared  in  1843, — almost  rivaling,  as 
it  did,  the  splendor  of  the  sun  itself, — some  notice  will  be  appropriate  of  similar  bodies 
which,  during  the  last  century,  have  excited  wonder  and  admiration. 

Without  dwelling  upon  the  appearance  of  those  comets  which  antedate  the  year 
1800,  or  upon  the  corruscations,  flickering  and  vanishing  like  northern  lights,  of  the 
comet  of  1807,  some  mention  may  be  made  of  that  of  1811,  the  finest  that,  up  to  the 
time  of  its  appearance,  had  adorned  the  heavens  since  the  age  of  Newton.  It  was 
noted  for  its  intense  brilliancy,  and  was  visible  for  more  than  three  months  in  succes-' 
sion  to  the  naked  eye,  shining  with  great  splendor — being,  indeed,  a  comet  of  the 
first  class,  in  point  of  magnitude  and  luminosity.  Its  brilliant  tail,  at  its  greatest 
elongation,  had  an  extent  of  one  hundred  and  twenty-three  millions  of  miles,  by  a 
breadth  of  fifteen  millions  ;  and  thus,  supposing  the  nucleus  of  the  comet  to  have  been 
placed  on  the  sun,  and  the  tail  in  the  plane  of  the  orbits  of  the  planets,  it  would  have 
reached  orer  those  of  Mercury,  Venus,  the  Earth,  and  have  bordered  on  that  of 
Mars.  At  its  nearest  approach  to  us,  the  comet  was  yet  distant  one  hundred  and  forty- 
one  millions  of  miles,  so  that  even  had  the  tail  pointed  to  the  earth,  its  extremity 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


425 


would  have  been  eighteen  millions  of  miles 
away  from  its  surface.  Its  appearance 
was  strikingly  ornamental  to  the  evening 
sky,  and  every  eye  waited  and  watched, 
intently,  to  gaze  upon  the  celestial  novelty, 
as  it  grew  into  distinctness  with  the  de 
clining  day.  The  elements  of  the  orbit 
of  this  comet  were  accurately  computed  by 
Professors  Bowditch,  Farrar  and  Fisher. 

The  comet  of  1843  is  regarded  as,  per 
haps,  the  most  marvelous  of  the  present 
age,  having  been  observed  in  the  day-time 
even  before  it  was  visible  at  night, — pass 
ing  very  near  the  sun, — exhibiting  an 
enormous  length  of  tail, — and  arousing  an 
interest  in  the  public  mind  as  universal 
and  deep  as  it  was  unprecedented.  It 
startled  the  world  by  its  sudden  appari 
tion  in  the  spring,  in  the  western 
heavens,  like  a  streak  of  aurora,  streaming 
from  the  region  of  the  sun,  below  the 
constellation  of  Orion.  It  was  at  first 
mistaken,  by  multitudes,  for  the  zodiacal 
light ;  but  its  aspects  and  movements  soon 
proved  it  to  be  a  comet  of  the  very  largest 
class.  There  were,  too,  some  persons  who, 
without  regarding  it,  like  many  of  the 
then  numerous  sect  called  Millerites,  as 
foretokening  the  speedy  destruction  of  the 
world,  still  could  not  gaze  at  it  un 
troubled  by  a  certain  nameless  feeling  of 
doubt  and  fear. 

From  the  graphic  narrative  of  a  Euro 
pean  traveling  at  that  date  in  the  wilds 
of  America,  it  appears  that  the  Indians 
around  him  viewed  the  comet  of  1843  as 
the  precursor  of  pestilence  and  famine. 
One  of  his  companions,  Tamanua,  a  young 
Wapisiana,  broke  the  silence  with  which 
the  whole  party  for  some  time  stared  at 
the  starry  train  of  the  ball  of  fire,  with 
the  exclamation,  "  This  is  the  Spirit  of 
the  Stars,  the  dreadful  Capishi — -famine 
and  pestilence  await  us !  "  The  others 
immediately  burst  into  a  torrent  of  vocif 
eration,  lamenting  the  appearance  of  the 
dreadful  Capishi,  and  raising,  with  violent 
gesticulations,  their  arms  towards  the 
comet.  This  comet  was  visible  in  Bo 
logna,  Italy,  at  noon,  two  diameters  of  the 
sun's  disc  east  of  the  sun,  while  passing 


its  perihelion,  being  then  only  ninety-six 
thousand  miles  distant  from  that  lumin 
ary,  and  its  speed  three  hundred  and  sixty 
six  miles  per  second ;  so  that,  in  twelve 
minutes,  it  must  have  passed  over  a  space 
equal  to  the  distance  between  the  earth 
and  the  moon.  When  its  distance  from 
the  sun  allowed  it  to  be  visible  after  sun 
set,  it  presented  an  appearance  of  extraor 
dinary  magnificence. 

But  the  appearance  of  this  strange 
body,  as  observed  at  different  points,  by 
various  scientific  observers,  has  been  made 
a  portion  of  the  permanent  scientific  his 
tory  of  our  country,  by  Professor  Loomis, 
of  Yale  college,  to  whose  learned  investi 
gations  in  this  department  of  human 
knowledge,  more  than  one  generation  is 
largely  indebted.  In  his  admirable  paper 
on  this  magnificent  comet,  he  states  that 
it  was  seen  in  New  England  as  early  as 
half-past  seven  in  the  morning,  and  con 
tinued  till  after  three  in  the  afternoon, 
when  the  sky  became  considerably  ob 
scured  by  clouds  and  haziness.  The 
appearance,  at  first,  was  that  of  a  lumin 
ous  globular  body  with  a  short  train — the 
whole  taken  together  being  found  by 
measurement  about  one  degree  in  length. 
The  head  of  the  comet,  as  observed  by  the 
naked  63^6,  appeared  circular  ;  its  light,  at 
that  time,  equal  to  that  of  the  moon  at 
midnight  in  a  clear  sky ;  and  its  apparent 
size  about  one-eighth  the  area  of  the  full 
moon.  Some  observers  compared  it  to  a 
small  cloud  strongly  illuminated  by  the 
sun.  The  train  was  of  a  paler  lightr 
gradually  diverging  from  the  nucleus,  and 
melting  away  into  the  brilliant  sky.  An 
observer  at  Woodstock,  Vt.,  viewed  the 
comet  through  a  common  three-feet  tele 
scope,  and  found  that  it  presented  a  dis 
tinct  and  most  beautiful  appearance,  ex 
hibiting  a  very  white  and  bright  nucleus, 
and  showing  a  tail  which  divided  near  the 
nucleus  into  two  separate  branches. 

At  Portland,  Me.,  Captain  Clark  meas 
ured  the  distance  of  the  nucleus  from  the 
sun,  the  only  measurement,  with  one  ex 
ception,  known  to  have  been  made  in  any 
part  of  the  globe  before  the  third  of 


426 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


March.  He  found  that  the  distance  of 
the  sun's  farthest  limb  from  the  nearest 
limb  of  the  comet's  nucleus,  was  four  de 
grees,  six  minutes,  fifteen  seconds.  At 
Conception,  in  South  America,  Captain 
Ray  saw  the  comet  on  the  twenty-seventh 
of  February,  east  of  the  sun,  distant  about 
one-sixth  of  his  diameter.  The  comet  was 
seen  at  Pernambuco,  Brazil,  and  in  Van 
Dieman's  Land,  on  the  first  of  March. 
On  the  second,  it  was  seen  in  great  bril 
liancy  at  St.  Thomas,  and  by  various 
navigators  in  the  equatorial  regions.  On 
the  evening  of  the  third,  it  was  noticed  at 
Key  West,  and  excited  much  attention. 
On  the  fourth,  it  was  seen  in  the  latitude 
of  New  York  by  a  few,  and,  on  the  even 
ing  of  the  fifth,  it  was  noticed  very  gen 
erally. 

From  this  date,  until  about  the  close  of 
the  month,  it  presented  a  most  magnificent 
spectacle  every  clear  evening,  in  the  ab 
sence  of  the  moon.  As  seen  near  the 
equator,  the  tail  had  a  darkish  line  from 
its  head  through  the  center  to  the  end. 
It  was  occasionally  brilliant  enough  to 
throw  a  strong  light  upon  the  sea.  The 
greatest  length  of  tail,  as  seen  there,  was 
about  the  fifth  of  March,  sixty-nine  de 
grees  as  measured  with  the  sextant,  and 
it  was  observed  to  have  considerable  curv 
ature.  One  observer  described  it  as  an 
elongated  birch-rod,  slightly  curved,  and 
having  a  breadth  of  one  degree.  At  the 
Cape  of  Good  Hope,  March  third,  it  was 
described  as  a  double  tail,  about  twenty- 
five  degrees  in  length,  the  two  streamers 
making  with  each  other  an  angle  of  about 
a  quarter  of  a  degree,  and  proceeding  from 
the  head  in  perfectly  straight  lines.  In 
the  United  States,  the  greatest  length  of 
tail  observed  was  about  fifty  degrees. 
Professor  Tuttle  gives  it,  as  seen  through 
the  Cambridge  telescope,  at  one  hundred 
and  eighty  millions  of  miles.  The  curva 
ture  of  the  tail  upward,  though  very 
noticeable,  scarcely  exceeded  two  degrees. 
The  first  observation  of  the  nucleus,  with 
the  exception  of  the  noonday  observations, 
is  believed  to  have  been  made  at  the  Cape 
of  Good  Hope,  on  the  third  of  March, 


after  which  it  was  observed  regularly 
until  its  disappearance.  At  Trevandrun, 
in  India,  it  was  observed  from  the  sixth  ; 
at  Cambridge,  Mass.,  it  was  observed  on 
the  ninth,  and  at  numerous  places  on  the 
eleventh.  The  first  European  observation 
of  the  nucleus  was  made  on  the  seven 
teenth,  at  Rome  and  Naples. 

The  comet  nowhere  continued  visible 
many  days  in  succession.  It  was  seldom 
seen  in  Europe  after  the  first  of  April. 
The  last  observation  at  Naples  was  on  the 
seventh.  On  the  fifteenth,  at  Berlin, 
Professor  Encke  thought  he  caught  a 
faint  glimpse  of  the  comet,  but  it  could 
not  be  found  again  on  the  subsequent 
evening.  At  Washington,  D.  C.,  the 
comet  was  observed  on  the  morning  of 
March  sixth.  Mr.  Maury  says  concerning 
it,  that  his  attention  was  called  to  a  para 
graph  in  the  newspapers  of  that  date, 
Monday,  stating  that  a.  comet  ivas  visible 
near  the  sun  at  mid-day  with  the  naked 
eye!  The  sky  was  clear;  but  not  being 
able  to  discover  anything  with  the  unas 
sisted  eye,  recourse  was  had  to  a  telescope, 
though  with  no  better  result.  About 
sunset  in  the  evening,  the  examination 
was  renewed,  but  still  to  no  purpose.  The 
last  faint  streak  of  day  gilded  the  west, 
beautiful  and  delicate  fleeces  of  cloud  cur 
tained  the  bed  of  the  sun,  the  upper  sky 
was  studded  with  stars,  and  all  hopes  of 
seeing  the  comet  that  evening  had  van 
ished.  Soon  after  the  time  for  retiring, 
however,  the  comet  was  observed  in  the 
west, — a  phenomenon  sublime  and  beauti 
ful.  The  needle  was  greatly  agitated ; 
and  a  strongly  marked  pencil  of  light  was 
streaming  up  from  the  path  of  the  sun  in 
an  oblique  direction  to  the  southward  and 
eastward  ;  its  edges  were  parallel.  Stars 
could  be  seen  twinkling  through  it,  and  no 
doubt  was  at  first  entertained,  that  this 
was  the  tail  of  the  comet.  Direction  was 
given  to  search  the  eastern  sky  with  the 
telescope  in  the  morning,  from  early  dawn 
and  before,  till  sunrise ;  but  nothing 
strange  or  uncommon  was  noticed.  Tues 
day  was  a  beautiful  day.  The  sun  was 
clear,  gilding,  as  it  sunk  below  the  hills, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


427 


a  narrow  streak  of  cloud,  seen  through  the 
tree-tops  beyond  the  Potomac.  The  tail 
had  appeared  of  gi'eat  length  for  the  first 
time  the  evening  before ;  and  the  observ 
ers  expected,  therefore,  to  find  a  much 
greater  length  to  it  in  the  evening  follow 
ing.  It  was  a  moment  of  intense  inter 
est  when  the  first  stars  began  to  appear. 
The  last  rays  of  the  sun  still  glittered  in 
the  horizon;  and  at  this  moment,  a  well 
defined  pencil  of  hairy  light  was  seen 
pointing  towards  the  sun.  Soon  after  six 
o'clock  it  grew  more  distinct,  and  then 
gradually  faded  away. 

Professor  Loomis  states  that  the  most 
complete  series  of  observations  on  this 
comet  of  1843,  in  this  country,  were  made 
by  Messrs.  Walker  and  Kendall  of  Phila 
delphia,  where  the  comet  was  followed 
until  April  tenth.  A  great  many  astron- 


perihelion  was  prodigious.  This  was  such 
as,  if  continued,  would  have  carried  it 
round  the  sun  in  two  hours  and  a  half ; 
in  fact,  it  did  go  more  than  half  round  the 
sun  in  this  time.  In  one  day — that  is, 
from  twelve  hours  before,  to  twelve  hours 
after  perihelion  passage, — it  made  two 
hundred  and  ninety-one  degrees  of  anom 
aly  ;  in  other  words,  it  made  more  than 
three-quarters  of  its  circuit  round  the  sun. 
The  head  of  this  comet  was  exceedingly 
small  in  comparison  with  its  tail.  When 
first  discovered,  many  were  unwilling  to 
believe  it  a  comet,  because  it  had  no  head. 
The  head  was  probably  nowhere  seen  by 
the  naked  eye  after  the  first  days  of  March. 
At  the  close  of  March,  the  head  was  so 
faint  as  to  render  observations  somewhat 
difficult  even  with  a  good  telescope,  while 
the  tail  might  still  be  followed  by  the 


'OMET   WHEN   NEAREST   THE   EAKTH. 


omers,  however,  computed  the  comet's 
orbit,  and  obtained  most  extraordinary 
results.  The  comet  receded  from  the  sun 
almost  in  a  straight  line,  so  that  it  required 
careful  observations  to  determine  in  which 
direction  the  comet  passed  round  the  sun, 
and  some  at  first  obtained  a  direct  orbit, 
when  it  should  have  been  retrograde.  The 
perihelion  distance — that  is,  the  least  dis 
tance  from  the  sun, — was  extremely  small, 
very  little  exceeding  the  sun's  radius. 
Some  obtained  a  smaller  quantity  than 
this,  but  such  a  supposition  seems  to  in 
volve  an  impossibility.  It  is  nevertheless 
certain,  that  the  comet  almost  grazed  the 
sun;  perhaps  some  portion  of  its  nebu 
losity  may  have  come  into  direct  collision 
with  it  ! 

The    velocity  with    which    the    comet 
whirled  round  the   sun  at  the   instant  of 


naked  eye  about  thirty  degrees.  Bessel 
remarked  that  this  comet  seemed  to  have 
exhausted  its  head  in  the  manufacture  of 
its  tail.  It  is  not,  however,  to  be  hence 
inferred,  that  the  tail  was  really  brighter 
than  the  head,  only  more  conspicuous  from 
its  greater  size.  A  large  object,  though 
faint,  is  much  more  noticeable  than  a 
small  one  of  intenser  light. 

The  nearest  approach  of  the  comet's 
head  to  the  earth  was  about  eighty  mil 
lions  of  miles.  The  absolute  diameter  of 
the  nebulosity  surrounding  the  head  was 
about  thirty-six  thousand  miles.  The 
length  of  the  tail  was  prodigious  ;  on  the 
twenty-eighth  of  February,  it  was  thirty- 
five  millions  of  miles,  and  its  greatest 
visible  length  was  one  hundred  and  eight 
millions,  namely,  on  the  twenty-first  of 
March.  Stars  were  easily  distinguishable 


428 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


429 


through  the  luminous  train.  The  visible 
portion  of  the  tail  attained  its  greatest 
length  early  in  March,  remained  nearly 
stationary  for  some  time,  and  during  the 
first  week  in  April  suddenly  disappeared, 
from  increased  distance,  without  any  great 
diminution  of  length.  The  tail  was 
turned  nearly  toward  the  earth  on  the 
night  of  February  twenty-seventh,  in  such 
a  direction,  that  had  it  reached  the  earth's 
orbit,  it  would  have  passed  fifteen  mil 
lions  of  miles  south. of  us. 

In  regard  to  the  extraordinary  bril 
liancy  of  this  comet,  on  the  twenty-eighth 
of  February,  it  was  the  opinion  of  Profes 
sor  Loomis  —  and  no  one's  opinion  could 
have  greater  authority  or  weight  than 
his, —  that  this  was  due  to  the  comet's 
proximity  to  the  sun.  The  day  before, 
it  had  almost  grazed  the  sun's  disc.  The 
heat  it  received,  according  to  the  computa 
tions  of  Sir  John  Herschel,  must  have 
been  forty-seven  thousand  times  that  re 
ceived  by  the  earth  from  a  vertical  sun  ! 
The  rays  of  the  sun  united  in  the  focus 
of  a  lens  thirty-two  inches  in  diameter, 
and  six  feet  eight  inches  focal  length,  have 
melted  carnelian,  agate  and  rock  crystal. 
The  heat  to  which  the  comet  was  sub 
jected  must  have  exceeded  by  twenty-five 
times  that  in  the  focus  of  such  a  lens. 
Such  a  temperature  would  have  converted 
into  vapor  almost  every  substance  on  the 
earth's  surface ;  and  if  anything  retained 
the  solid  form,  it  would  be  in  a  state  of 
intense  ignition.  The  comet  on  the 
twenty-eighth  of  February  was  red  hot, 
and,  for  some  days  after  its  perihelion,  it 
retained  a  peculiar  fiery  appearance.  In 
the  equatorial  regions,  the  tail  is  described 
as  resembling  a  stream  of  fire  from  a  fur 
nace. 

Such  are  some  of  the  principal  facts 
concerning  this  most  wonderful  comet  of 
modern  times,  according  to  the  investiga 
tions  made  by  Loomis, —  also  by  Bond, 
Walker,  Mitchell,  Joslin,  Hitchcock,  and 
others,  and  which  is  significantly  and  de 
servedly  called  "  the  Great  Comet." 

In  1847,  another  remarkable  comet, 
visible  to  the  naked  eye,  made  its  appear 


ance  in  the  constellation  Andromeda.  In 
the  early  part  of  February,  it  shone  as  a 
star  of  the  fourth  magnitude,  with  a  tail 
extending  about  four  degrees  from  the 
nucleus.  The  distance  of  the  comet  from 
the  sun's  surface,  on  the  evening  of  March 
thirtieth,  was  only  about  three  and  a  half 
millions  of  miles.  The  cometic  nebulosity 
was  about  sixty-five  thousand  miles  in 
diameter,  and  that  of  the  more  condensed 
central  part,  eight  thousand  miles.  The 
length  of  tail  was  far  less  than  that  of  the 
comet  of  1843.  Of  this  comet,  a  full  page 
plate  illustrates  this  article,  showing,  in  a 
peculiar  manner,  the  supernal  splendor 
characterizing  this  mysterious  order  of  the 
heavenly  bodies. 

The  comet  of  1853  was  clearly  visible 
to  the  naked  eye,  and  had  a  well  de 
fined  nucleus  and  tail.  On  investigation, 
astronomers  failed  to  identify  this  comet 
with  any  previous  one.  Its  brilliant 
nucleus  and  long  train  made  it  very  con 
spicuous, — indeed,  one  of  the  largest  and 
most  beautiful  on  record.  The  actual 
diameter  of  the  bright  nucleus  was  eight 
thousand  miles,  or  about  equal  to  that  of 
the  earth.  Its  nearest  distance  to  the 
earth  at  any  one  time  was  sixty-eight 
millions  of  miles. 

In  September,  1858,  Donati's  celebrated 
comet  made  its  appearance,  and  was  for 
weeks  a  wonder  in  the  skies,  at  which  the 
whole  nation  gazed  with  deep  and  intense 
interest.  The  great  astronomers,  Loomis, 
Peirce,  George  P.  Bond,  William  C.  Bond, 
Tuttle,  Norton,  Hubbard,  Safford,  and 
Gould,  made  learned  observations  of  the 
celestial  visitor.  The  nucleus  was  very 
brilliant,  the  tail  prodigious.  A  star  of 
the  first  magnitude  might  have  rivaled 
the  illumination  of  this  comet,  but  noth 
ing  less  was  worthy  a  comparison.  The 
tail  had  a  curve  like  a  scimitar;  but  its 
end  was  shadowy,  faint,  tremulous,  and 
uncertain.  The  view  from  twilight  until 
deep  dark,  was  magnificent.  On  the 
twentieth  of  October,  the  first  of  a  series 
of  extraordinary  phenomena  manifested 
itself  in  the  region  contiguous  to  the  nu 
cleus.  A  crescent-shaped  outline,  obscure 


430 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


ami  very  narrow,  was  interspersed,  like  a 
screen,  between  the  nucleus  and  the  sun; 
within  this,  instead  of  a  softly-blended 
nebulous  light,  indicative  of  an  undis 
turbed  condition  of  equilibrium,  the  fiery 
mass  was  in  a  state  of  apparent  commo 
tion,  as  though  upheaved  by  the  action  of 
violent  internal  forces.  On  the  twenty- 
third,  two  dark  outlines  were  traced  more 
than  half  way  round  the  nucleus,  and  on 
the  next  evening  still  another.  Other 
envelopes  were  subsequently  formed,  their 
motion  of  projection  from  the  nucleus 
being  evident  from  night  to  night.  The 
rapidity  of  their  formation,  and  the  enor 
mous  extent  to  which  they  were  ultimately 
expanded,  constituted  a  remarkable  feat 
ure,  difficult  of  explanation.  The  comet 


TELESCOPIC  VIEW  OF  THE  COMET. 

was  nearest  to  the  sun — fifty-five  millions 
of  miles, — September  thirtieth  ;  nearest 
to  the  earth — fifty-two  millions  of  miles, 
— October  twelfth.  Its  tail  was  fifty-one 
millions  of  miles  in  length. 

So  sudden  was  the  apparition  of  the 
splendid  comet  of  1861,  that  though  observ 
ations  made  at  Harvard  college  observa 
tory,  June  twenty-ninth,  failed  to  detect  it, 
it  was,  on  the  succeeding  evening,  the  most 
conspicuous  object  in  the  western  sky.  On 


the  second  of  July,  after  twilight,  the 
head,  to  the  naked  eye,  appeared  much 
brighter  than  a  star  of  the  first  magni 
tude, — about  the  same  in  brightness  as 
the  great  comet  of  1858.  The  aspect  of 
the  tail  was  that  of  a  narrow,  straight 
ray,  projected  to  a  distance  of  one  hun 
dred  and  six  degrees  from  the  nucleus, 
being  easily  distinguishable  quite  up  to 
the  borders  of  the  milky  way.  The 
boundaries,  for  the  most  part,  were  well 
defined,  and  easily  traced  among  the 
stars.  Further  observations  on  the  tail 
made  it  evident  that  a  diffuse,  dim  light, 
with  very  uncertain  outlines,  apparently 
composed  of  hazy  filaments,  swept  off  in 
a  strong  curve  towards  the  stars  in  the 
tail  of  Ursa  Major.  This  was  evidently 
a  broad,  curved  tail,  intersected  on  its 
curved  side  at  the  distance  of  a  few  de 
grees  from  the  nucleus  or  head,  by  the 
long  straight  ray,  which,  at  the  first 
glance,  from  its  greatly  superior  bright 
ness,  seemed  alone  to  constitute  the  tail. 
The  whole  issue  of  nebulous  matter  from 
the  nucleus  far  into  the  tail  was  curiously 
grooved  and  striated.  On  the  second  of 
July,  portions  of  three  luminous  en 
velopes  were  visible.  They  rapidly  faded, 
or  were  lost  in  the  surrounding  haze,  and 
their  places  were  filled  by  new  ones.  The 
investigations  of  Messrs.  Safford,  Hall, 
and  Tuttle,  show  the  diameter  of  the  head 
of  this  comet  to  have  been  variously  esti 
mated  at  from  one  hundred  and  fifty  to 
three  or  four  hundred  miles.  On  the 
second  of  July,  the  breadth  of  the  head 
of  the  nucleus  was  one  hundred  and  fifty- 
six  thousand  miles,  and  the  length  of  the 
tail  about  fifteen  millions  of  miles. 


XLIX. 
EXPECTED  DESTRUCTION  OF  THE  WORLD.— 1843. 


Miller's  Exciting  Prediction  of  the  Second  Advent  of  Christ. — The  Speedy  Fulfillment  of  the  Latter- 
Day  Bible  Prophecies  Boldly  Declared. — Zealous  Promulgation  of  His  Views. — Scores  of  Thousands 
of  Converts. — Public  Feeling  Intensely  Wrought  Upon. — Preparations  by  Many  for  the  Coming 
Event. — The  Passing  of  the  Time. — Miller's  Apology  and  Defense. — His  Deism  in  Early  Life. — 
Studies  History  and  Scripture. — Is  Struck  by  the  Prophecies. — Reads  Daniel  and  John  Critically. — 
Calculates  Their  Time. — "  About  1843  "  the  Consummation. — Basis  of  these  Conclusions. — Reluc 
tantly  Begins  to  Lecture. — Interesting  Incident. — His  Labors  and  Enthusiasm. — Three  Thousand  Lec 
tures  in  Ten  Years. — Secret  of  His  Great  Success. — Approach  of  the  Final  Day. — Cessation  of  Secular 
Pursuits. — Encamping  in  the  Fields,  in  Grave-yardi  and  on  Roofs. — Some  Curious  Extravagances. 
— Rebuked  by  Miller. — Repeated  Disappointments. — Misinterpretation  of  Texts. — Miller,  as  a  Man 
and  Preacher. — His  Calm  and  Happy  Death. 


"  I  confess  my  error,  and  acknowledge  my  disappointment;  yet  I  still  believe  that  the  day  of  the  Lord  is  near,  eren  at  the  door."— MIL 
LIE'S  FINAL  WOEDS  TO  HIS  FOLLOWERS. 


EW  men  have  attained  a  wider 
name  or  more  rapid  and  remark 
able  note,  in  the  American  relig 
ious  world,  than  Rev.  William 
Miller,  "  the  prophet," — as  he  was 
familiarly  called, — founder  of  the 
sect  called  by  his  name,  and  also 
known  as  "  Second  Adventists." 
A  sketch  of  the  public  career  of 
Mr.  Miller,  and  of  the  biblical 
grounds  upon  which  he  based  his 
earnest  and  confident  prediction  of 
the  end  of  the  world  about  the 
year  1843,  together  with  some 
account  of  the  extraordinary 
scenes  which  characterized  that 
exciting  period, — participated  in 

THE  GREAT  DAY  PROPHESIED  BY  THE  SECOND  ADVENTISTS.  by  tens  of  thousands  of  ardent  and 
enthusiastic  believers  in  Mr.  Miller's  views, — will  be  found  in  the  following  pages. 

Mr.  Miller  was  born  in  Pittsfield,  Mass.,  in  1782,  and,  when  he  was  four  years  of  age, 
his  father  removed  to  Low  Hampton,  in  the  state  of  New  York.  At  the  age  of  twenty- 
two,  he  settled  in  Poultney,  Vt.,  and  was  a  deputy-sheriff  for  that  county.  Taking 


432 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


a  military  turn,  he  received  from  Governor 
Galusha  a  lieutenant's  commission,  and,  on 
the  breaking  out  of  the  second  war  with 
England,  he  was  made  captain,  by  Presi- 
ident  Madison.  He  remained  iu  the 
United  States  army  until  the  declaration 
of  peace,  taking  a  courageous  part  in  the 
action  at  Plattsburg,  where  the  British 
were  so  sorely  worsted.  After  the  close  of 
the  war,  he  returned  to  his  home,  where 
for  several  years  he  held  the  office  of  a  jus 
tice  of  the  peace. 

In  the  community  where  he  lived,  Mr. 
Miller  was  regarded  with  much  esteem,  as 
a  benevolent,  intelligent  man,  and  a  kind 
neighbor.  He  had  only  a  common  school 
education,  but  was  a  person  of  more  than 
ordinary  talent.  In  his  religious  views, 
Mr.  Miller  was  an  avowed  deist,  until 
about  his  thirty-fourth  year,  when  his 
views  and  feelings  experienced  such  a 
change  as  led  him  to  unite  with  the  Bap 
tist  church.  For  many  years  he  was  a 
most  assiduous  student  of  history  and  the 
scriptures,  in  the  study  of  which  he  be 
came  impressed  with  the  conviction  that 
the  fifth  monarchy  predicted  by  Daniel  to 
be  given  to  the  people  of  the  saints  of  the 
Most  High,  under  the  whole  heaven,  for 
an  everlasting  possession, — as  represented 
in  the  seventh  chapter  of  that  prophecy — 
was  about  to  be  consummated. 

His  views — though  he  at  no  time  claimed 
to  be,  in  any  sense,  a  prophet, — were  sub 
stantially  as  follows:  That  Jesus  Christ 
will  appear  a  second  time  in  1843,  in  the 
clouds  of  heaven  ;  that  he  would  then  raise 
the  righteous  dead,  and  judge  them 
together  with  the  righteous  living,  who 
would  be  caught  up  to  meet  him  in  the 
air;  that  he  would  purify  the  earth  with 
fire,  causing  the  wicked  and  all  their 
works  to  be  consumed  in  the  general  con 
flagration,  and  would  shut  up  their  souls 
in  the  place  prepared  for  the  devil  and  his 
angels;  that  the  saints  would  live  and 
reign  with  Christ,  on  the  new  earth,  a  thou 
sand  years;  that  then  Satan  and  the 
wicked  spirits  would  be  let  loose,  and  the 
wicked  dead  be  raised  —  this  being  the 
second  resurrection, — and,  being  judged, 


should    make    war    upon   the    saints,    be 
defeated,  and  cast  down  to  hell  forever. 

It  becoming  known  that  he  entertained 
these  views,  he  was  importuned  by  many 
to  write  out  his  opinions,  and  afterwards 
to  go  before  the  public  with  them.  After 
declining  so  to  do  for  a  long  time,  he  at 
length  complied,  by  writing  a  series  of 
articles,  in  1831,  in  the  Vermont  Tele 
graph.  In  1832,  he  sent  forth  a  synopsis 
of  his  views  in  a  pamphlet,  and  subse 
quently,  in  obedience  to  conscientious  con 
victions  of  duty,  he  commenced  as  a  public 
lecturer  on  prophecy. 

He  thus  describes  his  reluctance  to 
appear  in  public,  and  the  occasion  of  his 
first  attempt :  "One  Saturday,  after  break 
fast,  in  the  summer  of  1833,  I  sat  down  at 
my  desk  to  examine  some  point,  and  as  I 
arose  to  go  out  to  work,  it  came  home  to 
me  with  more  force  than  ever,  '  Go  and  tell 
it  to  the  world.'  The  impression  was  so 
sudden,  and  came  with  such  force,  that  I 
settled  down  into  my  chair,  saying,  '  I 
can't  go,  Lord.'  '  Why  not  ?  '  seemed  to 
be  the  response;  and  then  all  my  excuses 
came  up,  my  want  of  ability,  etc. ;  but  my 
distress  became  so  great,  I  entered  into  a 
solemn  covenant  with  God,  that,  if  he 
would  open  the  way,  I  would  go  and  per 
form  my  duty  to  the  world.  '  What  do 
you  mean  by  opening  the  way?'  seemed 
to  come  to  me.  '  Why/  said  I,  '  if  I  should 
have  an  invitation  to  speak  publicly  in 
any  place,  I  will  go  and  tell  them  what  I 
find  in  the  Bible  about  the  Lord's  coming.' 
Instantly  all  my  burden  was  gone,  and  I 
rejoiced  that  I  should  not  probably  be  thus 
called  upon,  for  I  had  never  had  sucli  an 
invitation.  My  trials  were  not  known, 
and  I  had  but  little  expectation  of  being 
invited  to  any  field  of  labor.  In  about 
half  an  hour  from  this  time,  before  I  had 
left  the  room,  a  son  of  Mr.  Guilford,  of 
Dresden,  about  sixteen  miles  from  my  res 
idence,  came  in  and  said  that  his  father 
had  sent  for  me,  and  wished  me  to  go 
home  with  him.  Supposing  that  he  wished 
to  see  me  on  some  business,  I  asked  him 
what  he  wanted.  He  replied,  that  there 
was  to  be  no  preaching  in  their  church  the 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


433 


next  day,  and  his  father  wished  to  have 
me  come  and  talk  to  the  people  on  the 
subject  of  the  Lord's  coming.  I  was 
immediately  angry  with  myself  for  having 
made  the  covenant  I  had;  I  rebelled  at 
once  against  the  Lord,  and  determined 
not  to  go.  I  left  the  boy,  without  giving 
him  any  answer,  and  retired  in  great  dis 
tress  to  a  grove  near  by.  There  I  strug 
gled  with  the  Lord  for  about  an  hour, 
endeavoring  to  release  myself  from  the 
covenant  I  had  made  with  him,  but  could 
get  no  relief.  It  was  impressed  upon  my 


at  the  close  of  a  lecturing  tour  in  the  spring 
of  1843,  Mr.  Miller  remarks  in  his  journal, 
that,  up  to  that  time,  he  had  given  three 
thousand  two  hundred  lectures  ! 

An  interesting  reminiscence  of  Mr. 
Miller's  early  career,  is  related  by  his 
biographer  as  having  occurred  soon  after 
the  publication  of  his  views  in  pamphlet 
form.  As  he  was  passing  down  the 
Hudson  river,  in  a  steam-boat,  a  company 
of  men  standing  near  him  were  conversing 
respecting  the  wonderful  improvements  of 
the  day.  One  of  them  remarked,  that  it 


SYMBOLICAL  ILLUSTRATIONS  OF  THE  SECOND  ADVENT  PROPHECIES. 


conscience,  '  Will  you  make  a  covenant 
with  God,  and  break  it  so  soon  ?  '  and  the 
exceeding  sinfulness  of  thus  doing  over 
whelmed  me.  I  finally  siibmitted ;  and 
promised  the  Lord  that  if  he  would  sustain 
me,  I  would  go,  trusting  in  him  to  give 
me  grace  and  ability  to  perform  all  he 
should  require  of  me.  I  returned  to  the 
house,  and  found  the  boy  still  waiting ;  he 
remained  till  after  dinner,  and  I  returned 
with  him  to  Dresden."  Such  was  the  be 
ginning.  And  yet,  ten  years  after,  namely, 
28 


was  impossible  for  things  to  progress,  for 
thirty  years  to  come,  in  the  same  ratio  that 
they  had  done;  "for,"  said  he,  "man  will 
attain  to  something  more  than  human." 
Mr.  Miller  replied  to  him,  that  it  reminded 
him  of  Dan.  12:  4, — 'Many  shall  run  to 
and  fro,  and  knowledge  shall  be  increased.' 
A  pause  ensuing,  Mr.  Miller  continued, 
and  observed  that  the  improvements  of  the 
present  day  were  just  what  we  should 
expect  at  this  time,  in  the  fulfillment  of 
Daniel's  prophecy.  He  then  commenced 


434 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


with  the  eleventh  chapter  of  Daniel,  and, 
comparing  the  prophecy  with  the  history, 
showed  its  fulfillment — all  listening  with 
close  attention.  He  then  remarked,  that 
he  had  not  intended  trespassing  so  long 
on  their  patience,  and,  leaving  them, 
walked  to  the  other  end  of  the  boat.  The 
entire  company  followed,  and  wished  to 
hear  more  on  the  subject.  He  then  took 
up  the  second,  seventh,  eighth  and  ninth 
chapters  of  Daniel.  His  hearers  wished 
to  know  if  he  had  ever  written  on  the  sub 
ject.  He  told  them  he  had  published  the 
above  pamphlet,  and  distributed  among 
them  what  copies  he  had  with  him.  This 
was  one  of  his  first  audiences,  and  some 
gentlemen  of  high  standing  listened  to  his 
remarks. 

In  1836,  a  volume  of  Mr.  Miller's  lec 
tures  was  published  and  widely  circulated. 
Early  in  1838,  a  copy  of  these  lectures  fell 
into  the  hands  of  Rev.  J.  Litch,  a  talented 
minister  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
church,  who  soon  after  published  a  pam 
phlet  entitled  the  Midnight  Cry,  proclaim 
ing  the  second  coming  of  Christ  about  the 
year  1843.  He  also  commenced  preaching 
the  same  doctrine,  with  great  success,  and 
published  several  works  of  marked  ability. 
Another  prominent  receiver  of  the  doctrine 
was  Rev.  J.  V.  Himes,  an  accomplished 
preacher  of  the  Christian  Connection,  and 
whose  writings  on  the  newly  promulgated 
views  evinced  much  power  of  reasoning 
and  scholarly  research. 

The  volume  of  lectures  by  Mr.  Miller 
had  a  large  circulation,  as  did  also  the 
publication  called  the  Signs  of  the  Times. 
In  October,  1840,  the  first  general  confer 
ence  of  Second  Advent  believers  was  held 
in  Chardon  street  chapel,  Boston.  During 
the  winter  of  1841 — 1842,  conferences 
were  numerous  throughout  New  England, 
and,  in  1842,  the  standard  was  raised  in 
the  city  of  New  York,  by  a  series  of  meet 
ings  in  Apollo  hall,  Broadway,  held  by 
Messrs.  Miller  and  Himes.  During  the 
summer  of  that  year,  public  excitement 
greatly  increased,  and  multitudes  of  preach 
ers  and  speakers  were  in  the  field.  Finally, 
a  large  tent  was  constructed,  capable  of 


holding  four  thousand  persons,  in  which 
meetings  were  held  at  Concord,  Albany, 
Springfield,  Newark,  and  other  places. 
The  work  spread  with  a  power  unparal 
leled  in  the  history  of  religious  move 
ments  ;  and  this,  notwithstanding  the  ridi 
cule  and  other  weapons  of  opposition 
wielded  against  it  by  almost  all  the  lead 
ing  religious  and  secular  journalists  in  the 
principal  cities,  whose  influence  was  very 
great.  Perhaps  the  simple  secret  of  Mr. 
Miller's  wonderful  success,  was  his  bring 
ing  prominently  forward  a  somewhat  neg 
lected  but  vividly  important  truth. 

The  number  of  believers  had  now 
reached  scores  of  thousands.  The  basis  of 
their  expectation  relative  to  the  speedy 
dissolution  of  the  world  was,  that,  accord 
ing  to  the  results  of  chronological  research, 
it  appeared  that  the  captivity  of  Manasseh, 
the  commencement  of  the  "seven  times," 
or  2520  years  of  Leviticus  xxvi.,  was 
B.  C.  677,  also  the  captivity  of  Jehoia- 
kim,  the  commencement  of  the  Great 
Jubilee,  or  2450  years,  was  B.  C.  607  ; 
also  the  decree  to  rebuild  Jerusalem  in  the 
seventh  of  Artaxerxes,  the  commencement 
of  the  seventy  weeks  and  2300  days  of 
Daniel  vin.  and  ix.,  was  given  B.  C. 
457 ;  and  also  the  taking  away  of  pagan 
ism  in  Rome,  the  commencement  of  the 
1335  days  of  Daniel  xn.  Reckoning  from 
these  several  dates,  it  was  believed  that  the 
respective  periods  could  extend  only  to 
about  the  Jewish  year  1843. 

Thus,  all  the  calculations  of  prophetic 
time  were  understood  by  the  Second  Ad- 
ventists  to  end  in  1843.  But  what  par 
ticular  time,  in  that  year,  was  a  matter  of 
uncertainty.  Some  supposed  one  day  or 
season,  some  another.  It  was  Mr.  Miller's 
opinion,  that  the  seventy  weeks  ended 
with  the  crucifixion,  in  A.  D.  33 ;  conse 
quently,  that  the  whole  time  would  end 
with  its  anniversary,  in  1843.  Still,  he  was 
not  satisfied  as  to  the  exactness  of  the  cal 
culation,  and  hence,  from  the  outset, 
expressed  himself,  "about  1843;"  indeed, 
in  the  year  1839,  he  remarked  that  he  was 
not  positive  that  the  event  would  trans 
pire  in  the  spring  of  1843 — he  should 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


435 


claim  the  whole  of  the  Jewish  year,  until 
March  21,  1844. 

But,  in  opposition  to  the  views  thus  held 
by  Mr.  Miller  and  his  able  co-laborers, 
Himes,  Litch,  and  other  commentators,  a 
host  of  learned  writers  appeared,  including 
representatives  of  all  the  Christian  denom 
inations — though  even  among  these,  there 
was  no  slight  diversity  of  opinion  as  to  the 
scope  and  meaning  of  the  prophecies,  and, 
in  respect  to  the  correctness  of  some  of  the 
points  held  by  Mr.  Miller,  no  objections 
were  advanced.  The  usual  strain  of  argu 
ment  used  by  the  opponents  of  Mr.  Mil 
ler's  rendering  of  the  scriptures  was  as 
follows  : — That  the  Lord  cannot  come  until 
after  the  millennium,  during  which  the 
whole  world  is  to  be  righteous,  and  the 
lion  eat  straw  like  the  ox,  etc.  ;  that  the 
Jews  must  be  brought  in,  and  restored  to 
Palestine,  before  that  day  comes ;  that  it 
is  to  come  as  a  thief  in  the  night — sudden, 
unanticipated,  unlocked  for ;  that  the 
world  and  the  human  race  being  as  yet  in 
their  infancy,  so  far  as  moral  and  material 
development  is  concerned,  it  could  not  be 
reasonably  expected  that  the  Lord  would 
come  to  destroy  the  world. 

But  the  great  opposing  argument 
brought  to  bear  against  the  new  views, 
was,  that  the  vision  in  the  eighth  chapter 
of  Daniel,  has  nothing  to  do  with  the 
coming  of  Christ,  or  setting  up  of  God's 
everlasting  kingdom ;  that  Antiochus 
Epiphanes,  a  Syrian  king,  is  the  hero 
of  Daniel's  vision,  in  the  eighth  chapter, 
and  that  the  2300  days  are  but  half  days, 
amounting  to  1150  literal  days,  all  of 
which  were  literally  fulfilled  by  Antiochus, 
— his  persecution  of  the  Jews,  and  dese 
cration  of  the  temple,  about  one  hundred 
and  sixty  years  B.  C. 

The  earliest  date  fixed  upon  by  any  of 
the  Adventists  as  a  probable  time  for  the 
Lord's  coming  (as  stated  by  Mr.  Litch, 
one  of  the  ablest  and  most  reliable  author 
ities),  was  February  tenth,  forty-five  years 
from  the  time  the  French  army  took  Rome, 
in  1798.  The  next  point,  and  the  on>, 
which  was  thought  the  more  probable,  was 
February  fifteenth,  the  anniversary  of  the 


abolition  of  the  papal  government,  and  the 
erection  of  the  Roman  Republic.  Viewing 
this  to  .be  the  termination  of  the  1290 
days  of  Daniel  xu.  11,  they  believed 
forty-five  years  more  would  terminate  the 
1335  days  of  verse  12.  Accordingly, 
expectation  with  many  was  on  tiptoe,  fully 
believing  that  the  great  day  of  the  Lord 
would  then  break  upon  the  world.  But 
both  those  periods  came  and  passed  with 
no  unusual  occurrence.  At  this  result, 
much  thoughtless  ridicule  was  indulged  in 
by  some  of  the  newspaper  p'ress,  and  exag 
gerated  accounts  given  of  the  believers  in 
the  doctrine  waiting  in  their  white  ascen 
sion  robes  to  be  caught  up  in  the  air,  or 
going  to  the  tops  of  the  houses,  or  into  the 
grave-yards,  to  watch.  Very  few,  however, 
were  so  much  shaken  by  their  disappoint 
ment  in  the  passing  of  the  time,  as  to  go 
back  and  give  up  the  doctrine.  Their 
confidence,  as  well  as  their  religious  sin 
cerity,  was  beyond  suspicion. 

The  fifteenth  of  February  passed,  the 
next  epoch  which  presented  itself  as  a 
leading  point  of  time,  was  the  Passover, 
the  season  of  the  year  when  the  crucifix 
ion  took  place.  This  was  looked  upon  by 
many  as  being  a  strongly  marked  era,  on 
account  of  its  being  the  occasion  when 
God  delivered  his  people  from  Egypt,  four 
hundred  and  thirty  years  from  Abraham's 
sojourn  —  and,  because  on  that  feast  the 
crucifixion  took  place.  This  latter  event, 
according  to  the  belief  of  many,  ended  the 
seventy  weeks  of  Daniel  ix.  24.  Hence, 
they  argued,  the  2300  days  would  termi 
nate  when  the  same  feast  arrived  in  1843, 
and  the  Savior  would  come.  The  four 
teenth  of  April,  therefore,  was  a  point  of 
time  anticipated  with  the  deepest  solici 
tude  by  many.  They  had  the  fullest  con 
fidence  that  it  would  not  pass  without 
bringing  the  expected  crisis.  Others, 
again,  looked  forward  to  the  season  of  the 
Ascension,  or  Feast  of  Pentecost,  as  being 
the  most  likely  time  for  the  advent.  But 
disappointment  attended  these,  as  it  had 
previous,  expectations.  Still,  the  zeal  of 
the  disciples  did  not  fail  them  ;  and,  at  the 
east,  west,  and  south,  the  same  enthusiasm 


436 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


was  manifested  by  the  promul gators  of  the 
doctrine  that  "  the  end  of  all  things  is  at 
hand." 

As  already  stated,  Mr.  Miller's  expecta 
tions  as  to  the  time  of  the  fulfillment  of 
the  prophetic  periods,  extended  to  the 
close  of  the  Jewish  year  1843,  which  would 
he  March  twenty-first,  1844 ;  and,  on  fur 
ther  reflection,  gave  considerable  weight 
to  the  consideration  that  the  tenth  day  of 
the  seventh  month  of  the  current  Jewish 
year,  which,  following  the  reckoning  of  the 
Caraite  Jews,  fell  on  the  twenty-second  of 
October,  was  the  probable  termination  of 
several  prophetic  periods,  and,  therefore, 
would  very  likely  usher  in  the  great  and 
last  day.  Thus  it  was,  that,  on  the  sixth 
of  October,  he  wrote:  "  If  Christ  does  not 
come  within  twenty  or  twenty-five  days,  I 
shall  feel  twice  the  disappointment  I  did 
in  the  spring."  AVith  great  unanimity,  as 
well  as  honestly  and  heartily,  was  this 
view  accepted  by  his  followers.  Indeed, 
the  feeling  was  everywhere  intense,  among 
them.  For  some  days  preceding  the  time 
designated,  their  secular  business  was,  for 
the  most  part,  suspended ;  and  those  who 
looked  for  the  advent,  gave  themselves  to 
the  work  of  preparation  for  that  event,  as 
they  would  for  death,  were  they  on  a  bed 
of  sickness. 

In  regard  to  the  extravagances  charac 
terizing  this  movement,  the  published 
accounts  are  declared  by  the  friends  of 
Mr.  Miller  to  have  been,  for  the  most  part, 
gross  mis-statements,  and  that  hundreds  of 
reports  relating  to  excesses,  had  no  found 
ation  in  fact.  Even  so  generally  fair  and 
discriminating  a  writer  as  Sir  Charles 
Lyell,  who  was  traveling  in  America 
while  the  advent  excitement  was  at  its 
height,  states  that  several  houses  were 
pointed  out  to  him,  between  Plymouth 
(Massachusetts)  and  Boston,  the  owners 
of  which  had  been  reduced  from  ease  to 
poverty  by  their  credulity,  having  sold 
their  all  toward  building  the  Tabernacle, 
in  which  they  were  to  pray  incessantly  for 
six  weeks  previous  to  their  ascension. 
Among  other  stories,  also,  industriously 
circulated,  was  that  of  a  young  girl  who, 


having  no  money,  was  induced  to  sell  her 
necklace,  which  had  been  presented  her 
by  her  betrothed.  The  jeweler,  seeing 
that  she  was  much  affected  at  parting  with 
her  treasure,  and  discovering  the  circum 
stances  and  object  of  the  sale,  showed  her 
some  silver  forks  and  spoons,  on  which  he 
was  about  to  engrave  the  initials  of  the 
very  minister  whose  dupe  she  was,  and 
those  of  the  lady  he  was  about  to  marry  on 
a  fixed  day  after  the  fated  twenty-second 
of  October. 

While  traveling  in  New  Hampshire, 
Lyell  states  that  he  was  told  by  a  farmer 
in  one  of  the  country  villages,  that,  in  the 
course  of  the  preceding  autumn,  many  of 
his  neighbors  would  neither  reap  their 
harvest  of  corn  and  potatoes,  nor  let  others 
take  in  the  crop,  saying  it  was  tempting 
Providence  to  store  up  grain  for  a  season 
that  could  never  arrive,  the  great  catas 
trophe  being  so  near  at  hand.  He  adds, 
that  in  several  townships  in  this  and  the 
adjoining  states,  the  local  officers,  or  se 
lectmen,  interfered,  harvesting  the  crops 
at  the  public  expense,  and  requiring  the 
owners,  after  the  twenty-third  of  October, 
to  repay  them  for  the  outlay.  So  bitter 
was  the  opposition  in  some  places,  that 
offensive  missiles  were  thrown  at  the  pub 
lic  speakers,  and  their  names  coupled  with 
those  of  such  impostors  as  Matthias,  Gal- 
la  way,  Folger,  Orr,  etc. 

That  irregularities  of  one  kind  and  an 
other  attended  a  religious  movement  so 
wide-spread,  intense  and  enthusiastic,  as 
this,  is  not  to  be  wondered  at;  but  it  is 
doubtless  true  that  the  majority  of  the 
incidents  thus  circulated  were  the  easy 
inventions  of  opponents.  The  most  nota- 
able  incident  was  that  which  occurred  in 
Philadelphia.  In  opposition  to  the  earnest 
expostulations  of  Mr.  Litch  and  other 
judicious  and  influential  persons,  a  com 
pany  of  about  one  hundred  and  fifty,  re 
sponding  to  the  pretended  "  vision  "  of  one 
Georgas,  on  the  twenty-first  of  October 
went  out  on  the  Darby  street  road,  about 
four  miles  from  Market  street  bridge,  and 
encamped  in  a  field  under  two  large  tents, 
provided  with  all  needed  comforts.  The 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


437 


next  morning,  their  faith  in  the  vision 
having  failed,  all  but  about  a  dozen  re 
turned  to  the  city ;  a  few  days  later,  the 
others  returned.  This  act  met  the  em 
phatic  disapproval  of  Mr.  Miller,  and  of 
the  Adventists  generally. 

This  day,  too, — the  only  specific  day 
which  was  regarded  by  the  more  intelligent 
Adventists  with  any  positiveness,  —  also 
passed,  peaceful  and  quiet,  as  other  days ; 
as,  likewise,  did  the  time  in  September, 
1847,  which  some  fixed  upon,  on  the  ground 
that  chronologers  differed  three  or  four 
years  in  the  dates  of  this  world's  his'ory. 
In  reviewing  these  facts  and  results  of  the 
past,  Mr.  Miller  wrote :  "  Were  I  to  live 
my  life  over  again,  with  the  same  evidence 
that  I  then  had,  to  be  honest  with  God 
and  man  I  should  have  to  do  as  I  have 
done.  I  confess  my  error,  and  acknowl 
edge  my  disappointment ;  yet  I  still  be 
lieve  that  the  day  of  the  Lord  is  near, 
even  at  the  door." 

The  speedy  coming  of  the  Lord,  and  the 
approaching  end  of  all  things,  being  so  fre 
quently  and  explicitly  declared  in  scripture, 
it  is  no  wonder  that  there  should  continue 
to  be  found  a  body  of  believers  making 
that  important  truth,  and  the  duties  grow 
ing  out  of  it,  a  primary  point  in  their 
religion.  Though  less  numerous  than 
formerly,  they  are  still  to  be  found  in  con 
siderable  numbers,  with  many  earnest 
preachers ;  their  chief  organ  has  been  the 
Advent  Herald,  published  in  Boston,  and 
conducted  with  much  decorum  and  ability. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  a  man  of  Mr. 
Miller's  strong  and  ardent  temperament, 
should  live  and  die  in  the  same  belief 
which  he  had  promulgated  with  such  evi 
dent  sincerity  ;  for,  while  acknowledging, 
as  events  proved,  the  want  of  accuracy  in 
his  chronological  calculations — he  still 
claimed,  to  the  end  of  his  days,  that  the 
nature  and  nearness  of  the  crisis  were  sus 
tained  by  scriptural  evidence.  He  died 
a  peaceful  and  happy  death,  at  the  age 
of  sixty-eight,  in  the  year  1849,  and  an 
admirably  fair  and  well-written  biography 
of  him,  from  the  pen  of  Mr.  Himes,  ap 
peared  soon  after. 


As  a  man,  Mr.  Miller  is  described  as 
strictly  temperate  in  all  his  habits, 
devoted  in  his  family  and  social  attach 
ments,  and  proverbial  for  his  integrity. 
He  was  naturally  very  amiable  in  his  tem 
perament,  affable  and  attentive  to  all, — a 
kind-heartedness,  simplicity,  and  power, 
peculiarly  original,  characterizing  his 
manner.  He  was  of  about  medium  stature, 
a  little  corpulent;  hair,  a  light  glossy 
brown;  countenance  full  and  round,  with 
a  peculiar  depth  of  expression  in  his  blue 
eye,  of  shrewdness  and  love. 


As  a  preacher,  Mr.  Miller  was  generally 
spoken  of  as  convincing  his  hearers  of  his 
sincerity,  and  instructing  them  by  his 
reasoning  and  information.  All  acknowl 
edge  that  his  lectures  were  replete  with 
useful  and  interesting  matter,  showing  a 
knowledge  of  scripture  very  extensive  and 
minute — that  of  the  prophecies,  especially, 
being  surprisingly  familiar;  and  his  ap 
plication  of  the  great  prophecies  to  the 
great  events  which  have  taken  place  in  the 
moral  and  natural  world,  was,  to  say  the 
least,  ingenious  and  plausible.  There  was 
nothing  very  peculiar  in  his  manner;  his 
gestures  were  easy  and  expressive ;  his 
style  decorous,  simple,  natural,  and  forci 
ble.  He  was  always  self-possessed  and 
ready;  distinct  in  his  utterance,  and  fre 
quently  quaint  in  his  observations;  in  the 
management  of  his  subject,  exhibiting 
much  tact,  holding  frequent  colloquies  with 
the  objector  and  inquirer,  supplying  the 
questions  and  answers  himself  in  a  very 


438 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


apposite  manner,  and,  although  grave  him 
self,  sometimes  producing  a  smile  upon 
the  faces  of  his  auditors.  Much  blame 
was  cast  upon  Mr.  Miller,  by  some  of  his 
opponents,  for  not  contenting  himself  with 
a  quiet  and  unostentatious  avowal  of  his 
views,  instead  of  traveling  over  the  whole 
country,  and  inaugurating  the  "noisy  and 
boisterous  system  of  camp-meetings "  in 
connection  with  so  solemn  a  theme.  But, 
that  these  camp-meetings  did  not  partake 
of  the  obnoxious  qualities  thus  charged, 
will  appear — from  one  example  at  least, — 
by  the  following  account,  written  by  John 
G.  Whittier,  one  of  the  most  enlightened 
and  impartial  of  observers : — 

On  my  way  eastward  (says  Mr.  Whittier), 
I  spent  an  hour  or  two  at  a  camp-ground  of 
the  Second  Advent  in  East  Kingston  (N. 
H.)  The  spot  was  well  chosen.  A  tall 
growth  of  pine  and  hemlock  threw  its  mel 
ancholy  shadow  over  the  multitude,  who 
were  arranged  on  rough  seats  of  boards  and 
logs.  Several  hundred — perhaps  a  thou 
sand — people  were  present,  and  more  were 
rapidly  coming.  Drawn  about  in  a  circle, 
forming  a  background  of  snowy  whiteness 
to  the  dark  masses  of  men  and  foliage, 
were  the  white  tents,  and  back  of  them  the 
provision  stalls  and  cook  shops.  When 
I  reached  the  ground,  a  hymn,  the  words 
of  which  I  could  not  distinguish,  was  peal 
ing  through  the  dim  aisles  of  the  forest.  I 
know  nothing  of  music,  having  neither  ear 
nor  taste  for  it — but  I  could  readily  see 
that  it  had  its  effect  upon  the  multitude 
before  me,  kindling  to  higher  intensity 
their  already  excited  enthusiasm.  The 
preachers  were  placed  in  a  rude  pulpit  of 


rough  boards,  carpeted  only  by  the  dead 
forest  leaves,  and  flowers,  and  tasseled,  not 
with  silk  and  velvet,  but  with  the  green 
boughs  of  the  somber  hemlocks  around  it. 
One  of  them  followed  the  music  in  an  earn 
est  exhortation  on  the  duty  of  preparing  for 
the  great  event.  Occasionally,  he  was  really 
eloquent,  and  his  description  of  the  last  day 
had  all  the  terrible  distinctness  of  Anellis's 
painting  of  the  'End  of  the  World.' 

Suspended  from  the  front  of  the  rude 
pulpit  were  two  broad  sheets  of  canvas, 
upon  one  of  which  was  the  figure  of  a 
man, — the  head  of  gold,  the  breast  and 
arms  of  silver,  the  belly  of  brass,  the  legs 
of  iron,  and  feet  of  clay, — the  dream  of 
Nebuchadnezzar !  On  the  other  were 
depicted  the  wonders  of  the  Apocalyptic 
vision — the  beasts — the  dragons — the  scar 
let  woman  seen  by  the  seer  of  Patmos — 
oriental  types  and  figures  and  mystic 
symbols  translated  into  staring  Yankee 
realities,  and  exhibited  like  the  beasts  of  a 
traveling  menagerie.  One  horrible  image, 
with  its  hideous  heads  and  scaly  caudal 
extremity,  reminded  me  of  the  tremendous 
line  of  Milton,  who,  in  speaking  of  the  same 
evil  dragon,  describes  him  as  "Swinge 
ing  the  scaly  horrors  of  his  folded  tail." 
To  an  imaginative  mind  the  scene  was 
full  of  novel  interest.  The  white  circle  of 
tents — the  dim  wood  arches — the  upturned, 
earnest  faces  —  the  loud  voices  of  the 
speakers,  burdened  with  the  awful  sym 
bolic  language  of  the  Bible — the  smoke 
from  the  fires  rising  like  incense  from 
forest  altars, — carried  one  back  to  the  days 
of  primitive  worship,  when  "  The  groves 
were  God's  first  temples." 


L. 


AWFUL    EXPLOSION    OF    COMMODORE    STOCKTON'S 

GREAT    GUN,   THE    "PEACEMAKER,"    ON   BOARD 

THE  U.  S.  STEAMSHIP  PRINCETON.— 1844. 


The  Secretaries  of  State  and  of  the  Navy,  and  Other  Eminent  Persons,  Instantly  Killed. — Miraculous 
Escape  of  the  President  — Sudden  Transition  from  tha  Height  of  Human  Enjoyment  to  the  Extreme 
of  Woe. — Stockton's  High  Enthusiasm. — His  Vast  and  Beautiful  Ship — Her  Model  and  Armament. 
— Styled  the  Pride  of  the  Navy. — Invitations  for  a  Grand  Gala  Day. — President  Tyler  Attends. — 
Countless  Dignitaries  on  Board. — Array  of  Female  Beauty. — Music,  Toasts,  Wit  and  Wine. — Firing 
of  the  Monster  Gun. — Its  Perfect  Success. — "  One  More  Shot!"  by  Request. — A  Stunning  and  Mur 
derous  Blast. — Bursting  of  the  Gun, — Death  all  Around. — Frightful  Shrieks  and  Groans — Scattering 
of  Mangled  Remains — Agony  of  Woman's  Heart. — Standing  Place  of  the  President. — Absent  Just 
One  Moment. — The  Dead  in  Union  Flags. — Funeral  at  the  White  House. 


"  My  tonzne  would  fail  me  to  express,  and  my  pen  to  portray,  the  agonizing  heart -throes— the  mingled  wa  lings  and   frenzy  — of  that 
awful  hour."— PHK  si  DENT  TYLKR. 


AKELY  is  there  found  in  the  pages  of  a  hun 
dred  years'  history,  the  record  of  a 
more  awful  catastrophe — shocking, 
indeed,  in  all  its  circumstances, 
concomitants,  and  results  —  than 
that  which  occurred  on  board  the 
ship  Princeton,  Commodore  Stock 
ton,  on  the  afternoon  of  February 
twenty-eighth,  1844,  whilst  under 
way,  on  the  river  Potomac,  some 
fifteeen  miles  below  Washington. 
This  war  steamer  had  just  been 
constructed  in  the  city  of  Phila 
delphia,  according  to  improved  plans  enthusiastically  advocated  by  Captain  Stockton, 
who  had  also  superintended  the  casting  of  the  guns — on  a  new  principle  and  of  prodig 
ious  size  and  power — constituting  the  steamship's  armament.  It  was  principally  to 
exhibit  the  superiority  of  these  new  and  formidable  weapons  of  war,  in  the  preparation 
of  which  Stockton  had  so  long  been  engaged,  and  of  the  perfection  of  which  he  had,  by 
repeated  tests  and  experiments,  thoroughly  satisfied  himself,  that  he  issued  cards  of 
invitation  to  a  large  and  brilliant  company,  of  both  sexes,  to  visit  the  magnificent  ship 
and  go  on  an  excursion  down  the  river.  He  had  on  successive  days,  previously,  extended 
this  courtesy  to  various  congressional  committees  and  other  officials,  but  this  was  to  be 
the  gala  day  on  the  decks  of  that  most  stupendous  and  beautiful  ship  ever  beheld  on  the 
waters  of  the  Potomac. 


STOCKTON'S  GREAT  GUN,   "THE  PEACEMAKER." 


440 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


Little  did  any  one  among  that  gay  and 
splendid  throng  anticipate  a  sudden  trans 
ition  from  the  height  of  human  enjoy 
ment  to  the  extreme  of  wailing,  anguish, 
and  death  ! 

The  day  was  remarkably  fine,  the  sun 
rising  clear  and  bright,  and  Washington 
from  early  in  the  morning  presented  a  gay 
and  busy  scene.  Nearly  all  the  carriages 
were  engaged,  and  freighted  with  the  love 
liness,  beauty  and  grace  of  the  city. 
About  eleven  o'clock  in  the  forenoon,  Mr. 
Tyler,  the  president  of  the  United  States, 
as  chief  guest,  Mrs.  Robert  Tyler,  Miss 
Cooper,  Mr.  John  Tyler,  Jr., — all  from  the 


executive  mansion, — with  a  large  number 
of  officers  in  glittering  uniforms,  all  the 
members  of  the  cabinet  except  Mr.  Spen 
cer,  many  other  high  functionaries  of  state, 
senators  and  representatives,  quite  a  num 
ber  of  attaches  and  secretaries  of  lega 
tion,  General  Allmonte,  minister  from 
Mexico  (Sir  Richard  Packenham  had  been 
invited,  but  declined,)  and  others,  to  the 
number  of  some  four  hundred,  were  assem 
bled  on  the  deck  of  one  of  the  steamers 
plying  between  Washington  and  Alexan 
dria,  fast  bearing  down  for  the  latter  place. 
Opposite  the  navy  yard,  a  boat  load  of 
musicians  were  taken  on  board,  who,  as 
the  company  approached  Alexandria,  and 
the  Princeton  hove  in  sight,  struck  up 
'Hail  Columbia,'  while  the  convoy  was 
describing  a  graceful  curve  under  the  bow 


of  the  splendid  war  steamer,  to  view  her 
in  all  her  pride  of  architectural  model, — 
the  Hags  of  every  nation  streaming  in  the 
brightness  of  the  meridian  sun  from  every 
mast,  and  her  yards  manned  to  return  the 
cheers  that  were  uttered  by  the  happy 
guests  as  they  neaml  her  side. 

They  now  approached  the  Princeton  on 
her  larboard  side,  and  came  quite  close  to 
her.  A  bridge  was  soon  made  from  the 
hurricane  deck  to  the  great  steamship,  and 
the  ladies  and  gentlemen  received  by  the 
officers  on  deck,  and  conducted  to  Captain 
Stockton,  who  was  in  full  uniform.  The 
band  now  struck  up  the  '  Star  Spangled 
Banner,'  the  marines  presented  arms,  and 
as  soon  as  the  company  were  on  board,  a 
salute  of  twenty-one  guns  was  fired,  the 
band  still  playing  national  airs;  and  it 
was  quite  amusing  to  see  how  many  ladies 
remained  on  deck  to  witness  the  naval 
maneuvers  and  evolutions,  although  they 
had  been  politely  requested  to  step  down, 
so  as  not  to  be  annoyed  by  the  smell  of  the 
powder,  or  the  noise  of  the  report.  Sump 
tuous,  too,  was  the  banquet  spread  before 
this  gay  and  brilliant  company. 

In  the  meanwhile,  the  Princeton  hove 
anchor  and  made  sail,  bearing  down  for 
Fort  Washington  and  Mount  Vernon — her 
sailing  qualities  being  admired  by  all. 
Past  Fort  Washington,  where  the  Potomac 
expands,  presenting  sufficient  scope  for 
the  power  of  the  Princeton's  big  guns,  the 
forward  gun  was  shotted  and  fired,  the 
ball  striking  the  water  and  rebounding 
five  or  six  times,  till  the  eye  could  no 
longer  follow  its  progress.  An  eye-witness 
of  this  experiment — a  newspaper  corre 
spondent — states,  that,  in  order  to  observe 
the  effect  of  the  shot,  he  posted  himself  on 
the  nearest  larboard  cannonade  gun,  and, 
by  the  side  of  this,  a  kind  of  scaffolding 
had  been  erected  by  the  sailors,  for  the 
ladies  to  stand  on.  One  or  two  ladies  had 
taken  their  position  there,  and,  close  by, 
stood  Mr.  Secretary  Upshur,  intent  upon 
witnessing  the  whole  scene.  The  corre 
spondent  offered  his  place  to  the  secretary, 
but  the  latter  declined,  saying  he  preferred 
to  stand  where  he  was — the  precise  spot 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


441 


where,  an  hour  afterward,  he  was  torn  to 
pieces. 

Captain  Stockton's  great  gun  —  called 
ironically  "the  Peacemaker," — was  now 
again  loaded  with  shot,  and  another  trial 
made  of  its  strength  and  efficiency.  The 
gun  was  pointed  to  leeward,  and  behind  it 
stood  Captain  Stockton  ;  a  little  to  the  left 
of  him,  Mr.  J.  Washington  Tyson,  assist 
ant  postmaster-general.  By  the  side  of 
the  latter,  a  little  behind  him,  stood  Mr. 
Strickland,  of  Philadelphia;  and  a  little  to 
the  right  of,  but  behind  him,  Colonel 
Benton,  of  Missouri,  who  had  a  lady  at  his 
arm ;  and  Judge  S.  S.  Phelps,  senator 
from  Vermont.  To  the  leeward  of  the  gun 
stood  Judge  Upshur,  the  secretary  of 
state  ;  also  Governor  Gilmer,  the  secretary 
of  the  navy,  who  had  but  a  few  days  previ 
ously  entered  on  the  duties  of  his  office  ; 
and,  a  short  distance  behind  them,  the  late 
charge  d'affaires  to  Belgium,  Mr.  Maxey, 
of  Maryland.  By  the  side  of  him  stood 
Hon.  Mr.  Gardiner,  of  New  York,  and 
Commodore  Kennon,  chief  of  one  of  the 
navy  bureaus. 

On  firing  the  gun,  a  murderous  blast 
succeeded  —  the  whole  ship  shook  and 
reeled — and  a  dense  cloud  of  smoke  envel 
oped  the  whole  group  on  the  forecastle  ; 
but  when  this  blew  away,  an  awful  and 
heart-rending  scene  presented  itself  to  the 
view  of  the  hushed  and  agonizing  specta 
tors.  The  gun  had  burst,  at  a  point  three 
or  four  feet  from  the  breech,  and  scattered 
death  and  desolation  all  around. 

The  lower  part  of  the  gun,  from  the 
trunnions  to  the  breech,  was  blown  off, 
and  one-half  section  of  it  lying  upon  the 
breast  of  the  newspaper  correspondent;  it 
took  two  sailors  to  remove  it.  Secretary 
Upshur  was  badly  cut  over  the  eye  and  in 
his  legs,  his  clothes  being  literally  torn 
from  his  body ;  he  expired  in  a  very  few 
minutes.  Governor  Gilmer,  of  Virginia, 
— under  whose  official  directions,  as  secre 
tary  of  the  navy,  the  power  of  this  great 
gun  was  tested, — was  found  equally  badly 
injured ;  he  had  evidently  been  struck  by 
the  section  of  the  gun  before  it  had 
readied  Mr.  Upshur.  Mr.  Sykes,  member 


of  congress  from  New  Jersey,  endeavored 
to  raise  him  from  the  ground,  but  was 
unable.  A  mattress  was  then  procured, 
and  Mr.  Gilmer  placed  on  it ;  but  before 
any  medical  assistance  could  be  procured, 
he  was  not  among  the  living. 

Mr.  Maxey  had  his  arms  and  one  of  his 
legs  cut  off,  the  pieces  of  flesh  hanging  to 
the  mutilated  limbs,  cold  and  bloodless, 
in  a  manner  truly  frightful.  Mr.  Gardi 
ner,  of  New  York  (one  of  whose  daugh 
ters  subsequently  became  the  wife  of  Pres 
ident  Tyler),  and  Commodore  Kennon, 
lingered  about  half  an  hour  ;  but  they  did 
not  seem  for  a  single  moment  to  be  con 
scious  of  their  fate,  and  expired  almost 
without  a  groan.  The  flags  of  the  Union 
were  placed  over  the  dead  bodies,  as  their 
winding-sheets. 

Behind  the  gun,  the  scene,  though  at 
first  equally  distressing,  was  less  alarming. 
Captain  Stockton,  who  was  knocked  down 
and  somewhat  injured,  almost  instantly 
rose  to  his  feet,  and,  mounting  upon  the 
wooden  carriage,  quickly  and  anxiously 
surveyed  the  whole  effect  of  the  calamity. 
All  the  hair  of  his  head  and  face  was 
burnt  off;  and  he  stood  calm  and  undis 
mayed,  but  deeply  conscious,  over  the 
frightful  wreck.  Shrieks  of  woe  were 
heard  from  every  quarter — death  and  deso 
lation,  blood  and  mangled  remains,  were 
all  around.  In  addition  to  the  deaths 
already  mentioned,  about  a  dozen  sailors 
were  badly  wounded;  one  was  dead,  and, 
behind  him,  Colonel  Benton,  Judge 
Phelps,  and  Mr.  Strickland,  as  if  dead, 
were  extended  on  the  deck.  On  that  side, 
by  a  singular  concatenation  of  circum 
stances,  Mr.  Tyson,  of  Philadelphia,  was 
the  only  person  who  stood  his  ground, 
though  a  piece  of  the  gun,  weighing  about 
two  pounds,  had  passed  through  his  hat, 
about  two  inches  from  his  skull,  and  fallen 
down  by  the  side  of  him.  A  servant  of 
the  president,  a  colored  lad  of  about  fifteen 
years  of  age,  was  amongst  the  slain.  Pres 
ident  Tyler  himself  was  saved  only  by  the 
merest  accident — having  been  temporarily 
called  back  from  where  he  stood,  just  a 
moment  before  ! 


44l> 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Judge  Phelps,  of  Vermont,  had  his  hat 
blown  or  knocked  off,  and  the  buttons  of 
his  coat  torn  off.  Mr.  Strickland,  of  Phil 
adelphia,  immediately  recovered  his  posi 
tion.  Miss  Woodbury  and  Miss  Cooper, 
who,  in  company  of  Captain  Reed,  of  the 
army,  and  Mr.  Welles,  of  Philadelphia, 
had  been  standing  on  a  leeward  gun,  were 
not  hurt ;  but  the  first-named  lady — the 
beautiful  and  accomplished  daughter  of 
Senator  Woodbury,  of  New  Hampshire, — 
had  her  whole  face  sprinkled  with  blood, 
from  one  of  the  unfortunate  killed  or 
wounded.  Judge  Wilkins  was  only  saved 
by  a  rollicking  bit  of  witticism  of  his. 


He  had  taken  his  stand  by  the  side  of  his 
colleague  in  office,  Secretary  Gilmer,  but 
some  remarks  falling  from  the  lips  of  the 
.latter,  and  perceiving  that  the  gun  was 
about  to  be  fired,  exclaimed,  suiting  his 
action  to  the  word — 

"  Though  secretary  of  war,  I  don't  like 
this  firing,  and  believe  that  I  shall  run  ! " 

A  most  heart-rending  scene  was  that 
which  transpired  among  some  of  the  lady 
guests.  The  two  daughters  of  Mr.  Gardi 
ner,  of  New  York,  were  on  board,  and 
were  piteously  lamenting  the  death  of 
their  father;  while  Mrs.  Gilmer,  from 
whom  the  company  had  in  vain  attempted 
to  withhold,  for  a  time,  the  dreadful  news 
of  the  death  of  her  husband,  presented 
truly  a  spectacle  fit  to  be  depicted  by  a 
tragedian.  Her  agony  was  doubtless 
aggravated  by  a  peculiar  incident.  It 


appears  that,  while  President  Tyler  and 
family,  and  a  large  number  of  ladies  and 
gentlemen  in  the  cabin,  were  in  the  act  of 
leaving  the  banquet-table,  to  proceed  to 
the  deck,  the  movement  was  arrested 
for  a  moment,  by  a  gentleman  announcing 
that  one  of  the  ladies  would  give  a  toast, 
and  but  for  which  it  is  probable  most  of 
the  party  would  have  been  exposed  to  the 
deadly  missiles.  Some  of  the  ladies,  how 
ever,  were  upon  deck,  and  near  enough  to 
be  dashed  with  the  blood  and  mangled 
remains  of  the  victims.  One  of  those 
ladies  was  the  wife  of  Secretary  Gilmer, 
and  it  was  at  her  husband's  special  request, 
that  the  gun  on  this  occasion  was  fired, 
in  order  that  he  might  observe  its  quality 
in  some  peculiar  way.  This  gun  was  the 
one  called  the  '  Peacemaker ; '  the  other, 
of  the  same  size  on  board,  was  called  the 
'Oregon.' 

Mr.  Seaton,  mayor  of  the  city  of  Wash 
ington,  was  one  of  the  company,  having 
been  invited  by  Mr.  Gilmer,  and  would 
have  accompanied  him  to  the  deck  to 
witness  the  firing,  but  for  a  difficulty  in 
finding  his  cloak  and  hat  at  the  moment. 
A  lady,  standing  upon  the  deck  between 
two  gentlemen,  one  of  whom  had  his  hat, 
and  the  other  the  breast  of  his  coat  taken 
off,  escaped  unhurt.  The  secretary  of 
state,  Mr.  Upshur,  left  a  wife  and  daugh 
ter,  to  mourn  his  untimely  death  ;  Secre 
tary  Gilmer,  a  wife  and  eight  children — 
the  eldest  but  fifteen.  Commodore  Kennon 
left  a  young  wife,  and  children  by  his  first 
wife.  Mr.  Maxey  also  left  a  wife  and 
children ;  and  Colonel  Gardiner  two  accom 
plished  daughters,  leading  belles  in  the 
society  of  the  metropolis.  The  only  cir 
cumstance  calculated  to  relieve  the  all-per 
vading  distress,  was,  that  of  the  multitude 
of  ladies  who  were  on  board  the  ship,  not 
one  was  materially  injured. 

As  illustrating  the  effect  of  such  a  phe 
nomenon,  upon  those  who  were  near 
enough  to  have  their  sensations  and  emo 
tions  wrought  upon  to  the  highest  degree, 
without  actual  injury  to  their  persons,  the 
experience  of  Senator  Benton — certainly 
one  of  the  strongest-minded  of  men — is  an 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


443 


EXPLOSION  OF  THE  GREAT  GUN  ON  BOARD  THE  UNITED  STATES  STEAMSHIP  PRINCETON. 


interesting  case  in  point.  In  that  sena 
tor's  account  of  the  occurrence,  he  says, 
among  other  things:  'Lieutenant  Hunt 
caused  the  gun  to  l>e  worked,  to  show  the 
ease  and  precision  with  which  her  direc 
tion  could  he  changed,  and  then  pointed 
down  the  river  to  make  the  fire — himself 
and  the  gunners  standing  near  the  hreech 
on  the  right.  I  opened  my  mouth  wide  to 
receive  the  concussion  on  the  inside  as  well 
as  on  the  outside  of  the  head  and  ears,  so 
as  to  lessen  the  force  of  the  external 
shock.  I  saw  the  hammer  pulled  back 


— heard  a  tap — saw  a  flash — felt  a  blast  in 
the  face,  and  knew  that  my  hat  was  gone ; 
and  that  was  the  last  that  I  knew  of  the 
world,  or  of  myself,  for  a  time,  of  which  I 
can  give  any  account.  The  first  that  I 
knew  of  myself,  or  of  anything  afterwards, 
was  rising  up  at  the  breech  of  the  gun, 
seeing  the  gun  itself  split  open,  —  two 
seamen,  the  blood  oozing  from  their  ears 
and  nostrils,  rising  and  reeling  near  me — 
Commodore  Stockton,  hat  gone,  and  face 
blackened,  standing  bolt  upright,  staring 
fixedly  upon  the  shattered  gun.  I  had  heard 


444 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


no  noise — no  more  than  the  dead.  I  only 
knew  that  the  gun  had  burst  from  seeing 
its  fragments.  I  had  gone  through  the 
experience  of  a  sudden  death,  as  if  from 
lightning,  which  extinguishes  knowledge 
and  sensation,  and  takes  one  out  of  the 
world  without  thought  or  feeling.  I  think 
I  know  what  it  is  to  die  without  knowing 
it,  and  that  such  a  death  is  nothing  to 
him  that  revives.  The  rapid  and  lucid 
working  of  the  mind  to  the  instant  of 
extinction,  is  the  marvel  that  still  aston 
ishes  me.  I  heard  the  tap — saw  the  flash, 
felt  the  blast — and  knew  nothing  of  the 
explosion.  I  was  cut  off  in  that  inappre 
ciable  point  of  time  which  intervened 
between  the  Hash  and  the  tire — between 


the  burning  of  the  powder  in  the  touch- 
hole,  and  the  burning  of  it  in  the  barrel  of 
the  gun.  No  mind  can  seize  that  point  of 
time,  no  thought  can  measure  it;  yet  to 
me  it  was  distinctly  marked,  divided  life 
from  death — the  life  that  sees,  and  feels, 
and  knows,  from  death  (for  such  it  was  for 
the  time),  which  annihilates  self  and  the 
world.  And  now  is  credible  to  me,  or 
rather  comprehensible,  what  persons  have 
told  me  of  the  rapid  and  clear  working  of 
the  mind  in  sudden  and  dreadful  catastro 
phes —  as  in  steam-boat  explosions,  and 
being  blown  into  the  air — and  have  the 
events  of  their  lives  pass  in  review  before 
them,  and  even  speculate  upon  the  chances 
of  falling  on  the  deck  and  being  crushed, 


or  falling  on  the  water  and  swimming: 
and  persons  recovered  from  drowning,  and 
running  their  whole  lives  over  in  the  inter 
val  between  losing  hope  and  losing  con 
sciousness.'  This  account,  written  by  Mr. 
Benton,  several  years  after  the  occurrence, 
shows  the  vivid  impression  made  upon  his 
mind. 

Of  similar  interest  was  the  experience 
of  Judge  Phelps,  senator  from  Vermont, 
who  was  nearer  to  the  gun  than  any  other 
guest,  and  who  had  at  his  side  a  young 
lady,  Miss  Sommerville,  from  Maryland. 
The  judge  was  prostrated,  his  hat  and  the 
lady's  bonnet  disappeared,  her  dress  was 
also  torn,  and  the  judge's  apparel  rent  and 
demolished.  The  lady's  face  was  scorched, 
and  she  stood  like  a  statue, 
unconscious.  'I  took  a 
glance  at  the  scene/  says 
the  judge,  writing  to  a 
friend,  'caught  her  round 
the  waist,  and  carried  her 
below.  I  witnessed  a  scene 
there  which  I  shall  not  at 
tempt  to  describe — it  was 
one  of  agony,  frenzy  —  the 
shrieks  of  a  hundred  fe 
males  —  wives,  daughters, 
sisters  —  the  beauty,  the 
loveliness  of  the  land.  The 
imploring  appeals  to  know 
the  fate  of  the  nearest  and 
dearest  objects  of  their  af 
fection  can  not  be  forgotten.  '  Sir,'  said 
one,  '  they  will  not  tell  me  about  my  hus 
band.'  I  knew  her  not,  but  she  was  at  that 
moment  a  widow  —  her  husband  was  blown 
to  atoms !  You  will  hardly  believe  me 
when  I  tell  you  I  was  calm — collected.  It 
was  no  time  for  trepidation.  I  felt  as  if 
introduced  in  the  presence  of  1113-  Maker. 
The  scene  was  unearthly;  every  selfish 
feeling  vanished — even  my  own  life  was  of 
no  account.  I  was  taken  to  the  portals  of 
eternity,  and  felt  that  I  was  surveying 
not  the  paltry  interests  of  time  and  sense, 
but  man's  eternal  destiny.  The  first  tear 
which  started  in  my  eye  fell  upon  the 
few  lines  which  convej'ed  to  my  beloved 
and  devoted  wife  the  assurance  that  she 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


445 


was  not  a  widow,  nor  her  children  father 
less.' 

The  first  hours  after  the  appalling  catas 
trophe  were  marked,  as  might  be  ex 
pected,  by  high  excitement.  Astonish 
ment,  and  a  feeling  of  dismay,  mingled 
with  intense  and  painful  curiosity,  seized 
upon  the  entire  community.  All  tongues 
were  busy  in  pressing  or  answering  in 
quiries.  Men  rushed  out  of  doors,  crowded 
the  resorts  of  public  intelligence,  gathered 
in  knots  about  the  streets,  and  with  eager 
countenances  turned  to  every  new-comer 
for  further  information. 

The  next  day,  crowds  poured  down  to 
the  wharf  where  the  bodies  were  expected 
to  be  landed,  and,  though  long  disap 
pointed,  continued  to  wait,  hour  after 
hour,  till  at  length  the  minute-guns  from 
below  announced  the  departure  of  the  cof 
fins  from  on  board  the  steamer,  and  the 
commencement  of  their  melancholy  route 
up  to  the  city. 

As  the  boat  which  bore  them  approached 
her  landing-place,  the  surrounding  shores 
were  covered  with  spectators,  while  a  long 
line  of  carriages  stood  in  waiting  to  follow 
in  the  train  which  bore  the  remains  of  the 
dead.  Six  hearses,  in  sad  contiguity,  stood 
side  by  side,  and  received  in  succession 
their  mournful  freight,  as  the  coffins, 
borne  by  seamen  and  followed  each  by  an 
escort  of  naval  officers,  were  brought 
along  through  an  avenue  of  sympathizing 
citizens,  who  opened  to  the  right  and 
left  to  let  them  pass.  Scores  of  carriages 
followed  to  the  presidential  mansion, 
whither  the  dead  were  carried  by  the 
president's  particular  desire,  and  de 
posited  in  the  East  room.  That  vast 
apartment,  so  often  the  scene  of  brilliant 
festivity  —  so  often  echoing  the  strains  of 
joyous  music  and  the  mingled  voices  of  the 
gay  —  was  now  converted,  in  the  provi 
dence  of  God,  into  a  sepulchral  chamber, 
cold,  silent,  and  dark. 

Saturday  was  fixed  upon  for  the  funeral 
ceremonies,  and  the  city  was  filled  with 
those  who  came  to  witness  the  solemn 
rites  and  pomp  of  the  occasion,  the  bustle 
of  business  being  hushed  at  an  early  hour. 


Before  the  bodies  were  removed  from  the 
executive  mansion,  religious  services  were 
performed  by  Rev.  Messrs.  Hawley, 
Laurie,  and  Butler.  The  funeral  proces 
sion  was  then  formed,  and  presented  an 
imposing  coup  d'ceil.  Generals  Scott  and 
Jones  led  the  splendid  military  escort. 
Among  the  distinguished  pall-bearers 
were  Messrs.  Archer,  Morgan,  Bolton, 
Totten,  Worth,  Gibson,  Aulick,  Shubrick, 
Crane,  Towson,  Kennedy,  Hunt,  Barnard, 
Fish,  Fendall, — all  departments  of  the 
government,  legislative,  executive,  judi 
cial,  military  and  naval,  being  largely 
represented  in  the  vast  and  magnificent 
procession.  With  these  honors,  accom 
panied  by  minute-guns  and  tolling  bells, 
the  bodies  were  borne  to  the  congressional 
burying-ground,  where  the  military  halted, 
and,  forming  in  line  in  front  of  the  gate, 
received  the  hearses  with  martial  salutes 
and  dirges.  Minute-guns  were  fired  from 
the  west  terrace  of  the  capitol  grounds, 
from  the  navy  yard,  and  from  other  points, 
as  the  cavalcade  proceeded  on  its  route  ; 
religious  services  were  again  performed, 
on  depositing  the  coffins  in  the  receiving 
vault ;  after  which,  the  military,  as  usual, 
closed  the  solemn  pageant  of  outward 
ceremonial,  by  firing  volleys  in  honor  of 
the  lamented  dead. 

By  direction  of  the  president,  Hon. 
John  Nelson  became,  ad  interim)  secretary 
of  state ;  and  Commodore  Warrington,  in 
like  manner,  secretary  of  the  navy ;  in 
place  of  Messrs.  Upshur  and  Gilmer. 

Concerning  the  great  gun  used  on  this  oc 
casion,  and  of  which  Commodore  Stockton 
was  the  projector,  it  may  be  remarked  that 
it  was  manufactured  in  New  York,  and 
was  far  superior  in  point  of  workmanship 
to  its  companion,  the  '  Oregon,'  which  was 
made  in  England.  The  'Peacemaker' 
was  placed  in  the  bow  of  the  ship,  on  a 
revolving  carriage,  so  that  it  might  be 
fired  from  either  side.  An  ordinary 
charge  of  powder  for  it  was  thirty  pounds. 
It  carried  a  ball  weighing  two  hundred 
and  twenty-five  pounds  ;  and  such  was  the 
precision  with  which  it  could  be  fired,  as 
ascertained  from  actual  experiments,  that 


446 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


an  object  the  size  of  a  hogshead  could  be 
hit  nine  times  in  ten,  at  a  distance  of 
half  a  mile. 

The  gun  being  loaded,  the  first  thing 
was  to  ascertain  the  precise  distance  of 
the  object  to  be  fired  at,  this  being  done 
by  means  of  an  instrument,  constructed 
upon  trigonometrical  principles,  the  scale 
on  which  indicated  the  distance  at  a 
glance.  The  next  thing  was  to  give  the 
gun  the  proper  elevation.  This  was  done 
by  means  of  a  self-acting  lock,  on  an  arm 
of  which  was  a  scale  that  indicated  the 
precise  elevation  necessary  to  reach  a 
given  distance  with  the  ball.  A  spring 
on  top  of  the  lock  was  then  brought  up 
to  the  point  indicated,  the  hammer  pulled 
back,  and,  at  the  very  point  of  time  when, 


by  the  ship's  motion,  the  gun  reached  that 
point,  and  not  before  nor  afterward,  the 
gun  was  of  itself  discharged. 

The  weight  of  the  'Peacemaker'  was 
ten  tons  ;  its  length,  fifteen  feet ;  with  a 
bore  of  twelve  inches.  It  had  been  tested 
with  a  charge  of  forty-nine  pounds  of 
powder;  had  frequently  been  fired  with 
thirty ;  it  exploded  with  twenty-five. 

A  few  days  before  the  exhibition  of  the 
ordnance  to  the  presidential  party,  there 
was  an  interesting  trial  of  the  gun, — its 
manner  of  working  and  its  powers — 
attended  with  most  satisfactory  results. 
All  the  preparation  for  firing,  with  the 


exception  simply  of  putting  the  powder 
and  ball  into  the  gun,  was  made  by  Com 
modore  Stockton  personally.  By  means 
of  a  tackle  fixed  to  the  breech,  a  motion 
was  given  to  the  gun  similar  to  that  im 
parted  by  a  heavy  swell,  and  when  it 
reached  the  point  indicated  it  was  dis 
charged.  The  ball  in  this  case  traveled 
about  two  miles  before  it  hit  the  water, 
and  then  bounded  several  times.  The 
Princeton  went  down  the  river  as  far  as 
Mount  Vernon.  In  going  down,  the 
'Peacemaker'  was  discharged  three  times, 
and,  in  returning,  twice.  On  the  fourth 
fire,  the  ball  struck  on  the  land,  and  its 
effect  was  lost  sight  of  by  those  on  board 
—  so  that  the  party  demanded  another 
fire,  and  respectfully  requested  the  cap 
tain  to  put  in  a  little 
more  powder  this  time. 
Before  firing  for  the  fifth 
and  last  time,  the  captain 
said  he  should  take  the 
sense  of  the  company. 
"  All  those  in  favor  of  an 
other  fire  will  say,  aye." 
The  air  resounded  with 
"aye!"  "All  those  op 
posed  to  another  fire  will 
say,  no."  Not  a  solitary 
voice.  "  The  ayes  have 
it,"  said  the  captain  ;  ''  I 
have  the  assent  of  con 
gress,  and  I'll  go  ahead." 
Probably  fifty  pounds  of 
powder  went  into  the 
'Peacemaker'  this  time.  As  before,  the 
gun  was  fired  by  the  captain  himself. 
The  ball  went,  probably,  four  miles  before 
it  struck.  It  bounded  fifteen  times  on  the 
ice,  in  the  course  of  which  it  performed  a 
half  circle. 

Stockton  was  one  of  those  persevering 
and  enlightened  experimenters  who,  like 
James,  Rodman,  Wade,  Dahlgren,  Ames, 
Sawyer,  Parrott,  Hotchkiss,  Gillmore,  are 
an  honor  to  the  cause  of  military  science. 
It  was  in  1839,  while  in  England,  that  his 
attention  was  attracted  to  the  extraordi 
nary  and  important  improvements  there 
introduced  in  the  manufacture  of  large 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


447 


masses  of  wrought  iron  for  objects  requir 
ing  great  strength,  and  he  was  thus  led 
to  consider  the  question  how  far  the  same 
material  might  be  employed  in  the  con 
struction  of  cannon  of  large  caliber. 
Singular  enough,  when  Commodore  Stock 
ton  applied  to  a  manufacturer  to  do  the 
job,  he — the  manufacturer — declared  that 


it  could  not  be  done  ;  and  it  was  not  until 
Commodore  Stockton  had  promised  to  pay 
all  the  expense  of  an  attempt  out  of  his 
own  pocket,  that  the  manufacturer  would 
consent  to  make  a  trial.  In  a  short  time, 
the  manufacturer,  seeing  that  it  was  per 
fectly  practicable,  became  as  great  an  en 
thusiast  in  the  matter  as  Stockton  himself. 


LI. 

TWO  HUNDRED  YEARS  OF  FREE  POPULAR  EDUCATION.- 

1844. 


An  Experiment  in  Behalf  of  the  Highest  Civilization. — Condition  of  the  Country  Previous  to  such  Efforts. 
— Early  Scenes  and  Customs. — Public  Law  Invoked  and  Applied. — Impulse  (.liven  to  the  Work. — Prog 
ress  and  Results. — America  in  the  Van. — Most  Enlightened  and  Successful  System  in  the  World. — 
Female  Education. — Colleges,  Universities,  etc. — A  Very  Modern  Idea. — No  National  System  of  Edu 
cation. — Undertaken  hy  the  Individual  States. — Effect  of  Wise  Legislation. — State  Vicing  with  State. — 
School-houses  in  "ye  olden  time." — The  East  and  the  West. — Wonderful  Changes  in  Public  Opinion. — 
Some  Strange  Contrasts. — Architectural  Splendor  of  the  Present  Day. — Ingenious  Helps  and  Appli 
ances. — Congressional  (Irants  in  Aid  of  the  Cause. — Government  Bureau  at  Washington. — (irand  Aim 
and  Seope. — Standard  of  Eernale  Instruction  liaised.- — Principles  and  Methods. — The  Higher  Institu 
tions  of  learning. — Ideas  and  Plans  at  the  Start. — Founding  of  Harvard,  Yale,  etc. — Then  and  Now. 
— Nearly  400  Colleges  in  the  U.  S. — Some  8,000,000  Common  School  Pupils. 


"  No  nition  can  expect  to  prosper  if  the  education  of  the  people  be  neglected."—  GEOKOK  WASHIKOTOX. 


HE  present  year  may  be  said  to  complete  the  period  and  exhibit  the  re 
sults  of  some  two  hundred  years  of  free  popular  education,  as  established 
and  fostered  by  the  law  of  the  land, — the  fact  being,  in  this  matter,  that, 
h  no  comprehensive  system  of  national  education,  under  national 
/v~»  A  //cf-v..~  law,  exists  in  the  United  States  at  the  present  time, 
the  whole  interest  being  within  State  or  local  juris 
diction,  the  legislative  assemblies  of  the  colonies, 
particularly  those  of  Massachusetts  and  Connecti 
cut,  gave  early  attention  to  the  subject,  at  least  in 
respect  to  its  more  immediate  claims  and  necessi 
ties.  It  is  a  decidedly  modern  idea,  that  the  State 
at  large,  and  each  man  and  woman  in  particular,  is 
responsible  for  the  proper  education  of  every  child. 
Those  conspicuous  figures  in  history,  Alfred  and 
Charlemagne,  seem  to  have  had  a  glimmering  of 
that  idea,  but  the  times  were  too  dark,  too  stern  for 
them.  During  the  whole  of  the  middle  Ages,  little 
more  is  to  be  seen  than  priestly  schools,  chiefly  in 
tended  for  the  education  of  the  clergy,  but  opened  in 
Schools  for  the  nation  at  large,  and  supported  by 
the  nation  at  large,  were  not  dreamed  of.  As  late,  even,  as  the  seventeenth  century, 
the  state  of  the  lower  and  middle  classes,  so  far  as  education  was  concerned,  was 
quite  discouraging.  There  were  church  schools,  town  schools,  private  schools,  scat- 


I  III      HCHIMI 


K    AS    IT    WAC 


certain  places  for  the  laity  also. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


449 


tered  about  here  and  there, — a  few  good, 
some  indifferent,  most  of  them  poor  ;  but 
as  to  any  efficient  machinery  that  should 
reach  every  locality,  and  benefit  every 
class,  this  was  reserved  to  advancing  gen 
erations, — and  magnificent  indeed  has  been 
the  realization. 

As  already  intimated,  the  sources  of 
education  were  opened  up  at  an  early  pe 
riod  in  the  settlement  of  the  country,  and, 
in  spite  of  all  difficulties  that  presented 
themselves,  the  public  feeling  was  that 
the  best  should  be  done  that  the  times 
would  permit.  It  may  be  said,  however, 
that  not  until  1644 — -just  two  hundred 


the  laws  provided  for  the  schoolmaster 
and  the  school,  each  township  of  fifty  fam 
ilies  being  bound  to  maintain  a  teacher  of 
reading  and  writing,  while  each  of  a  hun 
dred  families  was  called  upon  to  set  up  a 
grammar  school.  According  to  the  phra 
seology  of  the  legislative  enactment  by 
Massachusetts — 

"  It  is  therefore  ordered  y*  every  towne- 
ship  in  this  jurisdiction  after  ye  Lord  hath 
increased  y1"  to  ye  number  of  50  houshold- 
ers  shall  then  forthwith  appoint  one  within 
the  towne  to  teach  all  such  children  as 
shall  resort  to  him  to  •write  and  reade, 
whose  wages  shall  be  paid  either  by  ye 


VALE  COLLEGE  IX  17*4. 


OLD    KIXt 


years  ayo — did  this  public  feeling  assume 
an  effectively  organized  form,  and,  in  a 
short  time,  laws  were  enacted  which  so 
shaped  matters  as  to  insure  permanency 
and  progress.  Thus,  in  Massachusetts, 
29 


=   -_— ;  - 

FIRST    HARVARD    COLLEGE. 

parents  or  masters  of  such  children,  or  by 
ye  inhabitants  in  generall  by  way  of  sup 
ply,  as  ye  maior  part  of  those  y'  order  y" 
prudentials  of  y"  town  shall  appoint,  pro 
vided  those  y'  send  their  children  be  not 


450 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY  — 177G-1876. 


oppressed  by  paying  much  more  yn  they 
can  liave  yra  taught  for  in  other  townes." 

The  example  thus  set  was  generally 
imitated  in  the  various  New  England  set 
tlements,  Connecticut  being,  in  fact,  in 
the  very  van,  or  at  least  contemporaneous 
with  the  most  alert  and  earnest  in  the 
good  cause.  Connecticut,  too,  laid  the 


of  late  years,  by  the  organization  of  teach 
ers'  associations,  teachers'  institutes,  etc. 
Pennsylvania  made  early  provision  for 
public  schools,  namely,  in  the  latter  part 
of  the  seventeenth  century,  but  it  was  not 
until  1834  that  a  thorough  and  compre 
hensive  plan  of  popular  education  was 
put  in  operation  by  legislative  ordinance. 


NORT H-W K8TE11N   UNI V EKSIT V. 


foundations  at  an  early  period,  of  an  am 
ple  school  fund,  by  setting  apart  for  that 
purpose,  in  1795,  the  income  of  the  sale 
of  lands  in  Ohio  which  were  the  property 
of  the  state, — reaching  a  value,  in  some 
fifty  years,  of  more  than  two  million  dol 
lars.  Rhode  Island  established  a  system 
of  free  schools  by  legislation  in  1800. 
The  common  school  system  of  Maine  is 
identical  with  that  of  Massachusetts,  the 
two  states  having  been  one  until  1820. 
New  Hampshire  and  Vermont  wore  not 
behindhand  in  prescribing  methods  and 
providing  means  of  general  education. 
In  the  state  of  New  York,  a  school  fund, 
now  amounting  to  millions  of  dollars,  was 
commenced  to  be  raised  in  1805,  from  the 
sale  of  some  half  a  million  acres  of  state 
lands,  and  the  present  system  of  free  edu 
cation  was  founded  in  1812.  New  Jer 
sey's  school  system  has  greatly  improved, 


Maryland  was  much  later  in  the  field,  pro 
posing  schools  long  before  she  established 
them.  The  southern  colonies  were,  for  a 
considerable  period,  lacking  in  activity  in 
behalf  of  education,  but  great  improve 
ments  have  taken  place,  and  especially  is 
this  true  of  late  years, — a  result  in  no 
small  degree  attributable  to  the  generous 
fund  contributed  for  this  purpose  by  Mr. 
George  Peabody,  and  so  ably  administered 
by  Dr.  Sears.  South  Carolina  was  amongst 
the  earliest  to  organize  public  schools, 
namely,  in  the  fore  part  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  but  these,  like  the  schools  of 
almost  all  the  country,  were  of  a  very 
limited  design.  In  Kentucky  and  Vir 
ginia,  as  also  in  Mississippi,  advance  steps 
have  been  taken,  within  a  comparatively 
recent  period,  in  this  direction.  In  all 
the  western  states,  in  addition  to  Ohio 
already  mentioned,  liberal  provision  has 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


451 


been  made  for  a  first  class  system  of  com 
mon  schools,  with  all  needed  auxiliaries. 

It  is  about  equally  true  of  the  different 
sections  of  the  country  in  early  times,  that 
the  system  of  instruction  was  extremely 
scant,  and  the  school-house  accommoda 
tions  of  the  most  impoverished  character, 
as  compared  with  the  present  day.  The 


objectionable,  as  the  standard  of  education 
was  correspondingly  moderate.  At  the 
west,  in  its  earliest  da3's,  things  could 
scarcely  have  been  much  worse;  indeed, 
many  of  those  born  and  reared  in  that 
section,  in  its  formation  period,  had  no 
education  at  all,  nor  did  they  generally 
feel  much  concern  on  the  subject, — and, 


NORMAL  SCHOOL,  NEW  YORK  ;     FOR  THE  TRAINING  OF  TEACHERS. 


school-house  of  " ye  olden  time"  is  de 
scribed  as,  in  fact,  scarcely  more  than  a 
hut  or  cabin — a  small,  low  building,  barn- 
like  in  shape  and  appearance,  made  in 
some  cases  of  logs,  and  usually  of  stock 
equally  crude  or  rough,  frequently  without 
clapboards  or  even  shingles,  and  lighted 
by  perhaps  two  or  more  four-pane  win 
dows, — a  narrow  door  of  rough  boards  at 
one  end;  within,  completely  unfinished; 
some  low  benches  without  backs,  and  a 
chair  or  stool  for  the  'master,'  constituting 
the  furniture. 

It  was  also  a  general  fact  in  respect  to 
those  times,  that,  though  the  teacher 
might  be  decidedly  a  gentleman  of  old 
school  perfection  in  his  manners,  and  very 
popular  perhaps  as  a  man,  his  scholastic 
attainments  were  quite  inconsiderable, — a 
point  then  not  likely  to  render  him  very 


among  those  who  did  pretend  to  afford 
their  children  a  knowledge  of  letters,  the 
difficulties  to  contend  with  were  numerous, 
not  the  least  of  which  was  the  lack  of 
competent  teachers.  A  frequent  custom 
in  vogue,  in  sparsely  inhabited  neighbor 
hoods,  was,  for  some  one  of  the  farmers 
best  qualified  for  the  task,  to  spend  a  few 
weeks  or  months  of  the  most  leisure  sea 
son  of  the  year,  in  teaching  the  children 
of  the  vicinity,  whose  parents  might 
choo  e  to  send  them,  at  a  small  expense, 
say  ten  or  twelve  dimes  a  quarter,  payable 
in  work  or  provisions.  In  this  way,  some 
of  them  succeeded  in  obtaining  such  an 
education  as  was  thought  to  answer  all 
needed  purposes  for  the  masses.  Girls 
learned  to  spell  and  read  imperfectly,  and 
the  art  of  penmanship  was  a  rare  attain 
ment  among  the  native  daughters  of  the 


452 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-187G. 


west,  of  that  day,  except  in  the  larger 
towns,  and  a  few  favored  spots  in  the 
older  settlements.  The  education  of  a 
boy  was  then  considered  sufficient,  if  lie 
could  spell,  read,  write,  and  had  '  ciphered 
to  the  rule  of  three ' ;  and  if,  by  reason  of 
any  superior  privilege,  there  was  added 
to  these  a  knowledge  of  grammar  and 
geography,  lie  was  considered  exception 
ally  advanced.  The  following  were  the 
principal  items  in  the  bill  of  expense  for 
the  entire  course  of  studies :  one  Child's 
book,  one  Spelling  book,  one  Reader,  one 
New  Te>tament,  one  quire  of  foolscap 
paper,  one  Arithmetic,  one  slate,  and  the 
tuition  fees  of  a  few  quarters.  The  pupil 
gathered  his  pencils  from  the  brook,  and 
plucked  his  quills  from  the  wing  of  a  ra 
ven,  or  a  wild  goose,  killed  by  the  father's 
rifle. 

Compare  all  this  with  the  architectural 
splendor  of  our  modern  school-houses,  that 
are  to  be  found  dotting  the  hills  and  val 
leys  of  forty  commonwealths,  the  cost  of 
these  structures  varying  all  the  way  from 
five  thousand  to  one  hundred  thousand 
dollars,  finished  with  almost  palatial  luxu- 
riousness  of  beauty  and  convenience,  and 
furnished  with  every  possible  appurtenance 
and  appliance  which  ingenuity,  so  prolific 
in  this  direction,  has  been  able  to  devise. 
Among  the  most  important  features  in  this 
improved  system  of  construction  and  ap 
paratus,  may  be  mentioned  the  loftiness 
and  amplitude  of  the  apartments,  and  that 
full  and  free  ventilation  so  necessary  for 
the  health  and  comfort  of  the  pupils,  to 
gether  with  an  abundance  of  light,  so  that 
there  is  no  straining  of  the  vision.  Of 
school-house  furniture  and  apparatus,  this 
country  is  distinguished  for  a  variety  and 
perfection  unexcelled,  even  if  equalled,  by 
any  other  nation, — including,  of  course, 
desks,  seats,  and  benches,  promotive  of 
comfort,  convenience,  and  neatness;  col 
ored  counters,  strung  on  horizontal  wires, 
in  upright  frames;  black-boards,  of  wood 
or  mineral,  some  having  movable  slides,  on 
which  letters  and  figures  are  arranged  in 
different  orders;  blocks,  demonstrating  the 
various  geometrical  figures;  maps  in  al- 


'  most  endless  style  and  variety;  atlases, 
globes,  gymnastic  contrivances;  models, 
for  representative  teaching;  geological, 
mineralogical,  and  botanical  collections; 
instruments  for  instruction  in  music; — 
these,  with  hundreds  of  different  text 
books  in  every  department  or  specialty, 
from  the  primary  to  the  classical,  with  the 
letter-press  made  artistically  attractive  by 
the  most  beautiful  pictorial  ornamentation, 
fill  up  the  foreground  of  this  wonderful 
contrast  of  the  present  with  the  past,  and 
the  details  of  this  comparison  might  here 
be  almost  indefinitely  extended,  did  space 
permit. 

Foreigners,  even  the  most  judicious  ob 
servers,  from  European  nations  of  the 
highest  advancement  in  matters  of  educa 
tion,  are  stated,  by  Prof.  Hoyt,  to  be  of 
one  opinion  in  regard  to  the  intelligent 
zeal  of  the  American  people  in  educational 
affairs,  and  the  readiness  with  which  they 
voluntarily  tax  themselves,  that  the  bless 
ings  of  intellectual  culture  may  be  free  to 
all ;  the  great  liberality  of  the  government 
of  the  United  States  in  freely  giving  of 
the  public  domain  for  the  support  of 
schools  for  the  young,  of  universities,  and 
of  technical  schools  for  instruction  and 
training  in  the  applications  of  science  to 
the  practical  arts ;  the  unparalleled  mu 
nificence  of  private  gifts  and  bequests  for 
the  founding  of  great  schools,  general, 
technical,  and  professional ;  the  superior 
ity  of  our  public  school  buildings  in  the 
cities  and  villages,  and  of  American  school 
furniture ;  the  great  superiority  of  our 
text-books',  especially  those  for  use  in  the 
primary  and  grammar  schools;  and,  finally, 
the  extraordinary  extent  to  which  our 
n-  wspapcr  and  periodical  publications, 
lecture  courses,  and  other  like  instrumen 
talities,  supplement  the  work  of  the  schools 
by  a  general  diffusion  of  knowledge  among 
all  classes  of  the  people. 

It  is  not  saying  too  much,  perhaps,  that 
the  liberal  grants  of  public  lands  made  in 
behalf  of  free  education,  have  proved,  in 
many  of  the  states,  the  chief  means  of 
prosperity  to  the  cause.  The  establish 
ment,  also,  of  a  government  Bureau  of 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


453 


Education,  at  Washington,  is  likely  to  ef 
fect  the  greatest  results  for  good.  Though 
clothed  with  no  positive  authority  or  con 
trol,  it  aims  to  encourage  the  growth,  in 
the  public  mind,  of  the  following  princi 
ples  or  features  of  a  national  school  sys 
tem,  namely  : — 

The  authority  and  duty  of  the  state 
legislature  to  establish,  aid,  support,  and 
supervise  schools  of  every  grade,  and  all 
institutions  and  agencies  of  education,  sci 
ence,  and  the  arts  ;  security  against  dimi 
nution  or  diversion  of  educational  funds 
and  benefactions;  the  certainty  of  a  min 
imum  rate  of  taxation,  sufficient  every 
year  to  secure  the  elementary  instruction 
of  all  children  within  the  state  who  shall 


ponderance,  sympathy  with  the  wants  of 
different  sections  and  occupations,  and 
independence  of  local  or  special  influence; 
a  system  of  inspection,  administered  by 
the  state  board,  intelligent,  professional, 
frequent,  and  independent  of  local  or  in 
stitutional  control,  with  the  widest  and 
fullest  publicity  of  results  ;  admission  to 
all  higher  institutions  aided  by  the  state, 
only  on  fitness  to  enter  and  profit  by  the 
same,  ascertained  by  open  competitive 
examination  ;  a  retiring  fund,  made  up  of 
an  annual  allowance  by  the  state,  and  an 
equal  payment  by  those  who  register  to 
secure  its  benefits,  conditioned  on  pro 
longed  service  in  the  business  of  teaching; 
and  an  obligation  on  parents  and  guar- 


VIEW  IX  YALE   COLLEGE  OUOUXDS. 


appl}',  by  teachers  professionally  trained, 
and  in  schools  legally  inspected  and  ap 
proved  ;  the  distribution  of  all  state  ap 
propriations  derived  from  taxation  or  funds, 
on  such  conditions  and  in  such  modes  as 
will  secure  local  taxation  or  individual 
contributions  for  the  same  purpose,  a  lively 
municipal  or  public  interest  in  the  expend 
iture  of  both  sums,  the  constant  co-opera 
tion  of  parents  at  home  in  realizing  the 
work  of  the  school,  and  the  regular  at 
tendance  of  pupils  ;  a  state  board  of  edu 
cation,  having  supervision  of  all  educa 
tional  institutions  incorporated  or  aided 
by  the  state,  and  constituted  in  such  way 
as  to  secure  literary,  scientific,  and  pro 
fessional  attainment  and  experience,  free 
dom  from  denominational  or  party  pre- 


dians  not  to  allow  children  to  grow  up  in 
barbarism,  ignorance  and  vagrancy, — and 
the  exercise  of  the  elective  franchise,  or 
of  any  public  officer,  to  be  conditioned  on 
the  ability  of  the  applicant  to  read  under- 
standingly  the  Constitution  and  laws. 

Of  free  public  education  for  females,  it 
may  he  said  that  the  standard  is  now  in 
every  respect  as  high  and  the  opportunities 
as  complete  and  ample,  as  for  the  other 
sex,  and  that  this  fact  relates  to  all  the 
grades  or  graduated  courses  of  instruction, 
from  the  primary  and  grammar  schools  up 
to  the  highest  collegiate  and  university 
institutions.  Normal  schools,  too,  for  the 
professional  training  of  teachers,  so  as  to 
leave  nothing  wanting  in  respect  to  capac 
ity  and  adaptation  for  this  purpose,  have 


454 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


been  established,  under  legislative  auspices, 
in  a  large  number  of  the  status,  and  the 
principles  and  methods  characterizing 
these  important  adjuncts  to  the  cause 
cover  the  widest  range.  Besides  these 
training  schools,  which  annually  send  forth 
hundreds  of  the  most  accomplished  gradu 
ates,  of  both  sexes,  colleges  exclusively  for 
females  are  to  be  found  in  different  parts 
of  the  land,  conducted  on  a  scale  and  with 
a  degree  of  success  equal  to  the  most  re 
nowned  of  those  for  males  only.  Collegiate 
institutions  designed  for  the  joint  educa 
tion  of  the  two  sexes  constitute  another 
feature  of  the  advanced  American  system. 
The  fact  seems  almost  incredible,  that, 
though  there  were  but  twenty-five  colleges 


times  and  the  present — any  considerable 
pictorial  views  of  the  superb  buildings, 
now  so  numerous,  which  have  been  erected 
to  meet  the  wants  of  these  institutions 

Harvard,  Yule,  and  Columbia  (or  King's) 
colleges  are  the  most  ancient  and  cele 
brated  in  America,  and  ma}'  be  considered 
the  mother,  of  all.  From  the  smallest 
beginnings,  their  prosperity  and  enlarge 
ment  have  continued  until  the  present 
day.  Harvard  was  founded  in  IGoO.  the 
intention  of  its  originators  and  benefac 
tors  being  the  preparation  of  young  men 
for  the  ministry  and  as  teachers.  Its  de 
partments — academic,  theology,  law,  medi 
cine,  science,  etc., — are  so  complete  as  to 
fairly  represent  the  highest  order  of  clas- 


VIEW  IX  HARVARD  COLLEGE  GROrNDS. 


in  the  United  States  in  the  year  1800,  the 
number  had  increased  nearly  fifteen  times 
during  the  three-fourths  of  a  century  suc 
ceeding,  these  being  manned  by  a  profes 
sorial  corps  of  nearly  four  thousand,  and 
the  number  of  students  falling  but  little 
short  of  fifty-seven  thousind, — a  remarka 
ble  fact,  indeed,  and  of  appropriate  men 
tion  in  connection  with  the  statement  that, 
at  the  same  period,  the  number  of  pupils 
enrolled  in  the  free  public  schools  was 
some  eight  millions. 

The  number  of  colleges  and  universities 
being  thus  among  the  hundreds,  renders 
quite  impossible  any  attempt  to  present — 
except  in  a  few  instances,  for  the  purpose 
of  showing  the  contrast  between  former 


sical  learning  on  this  continent.  Yale 
college  was  founded  in  1700,  and  its  ad 
vantages  and  reputation  have  always  been 
unexcelled.  The  same  may  be  said  of  Co 
lumbia,  Brown,  Princeton,  Hamilton,  La 
fayette,  &c ,  &c.  Columbia  college  was 
founded  in  1754;  the  university  of  North 
Carolina  dates  back  to  1789  ;  that  of  South 
Carolina  to  1801 ;  the  Ohio  university  to 
1804;  and  the  university  of  Virginia,  in 
the  establishment  of  which  Thomas  Jeffer 
son  was  so  prominent  and  influential,  was 
organized  in  1819. 

The  efforts  put  forth  at  the  west,  in  this 
direction,  during  the  last  half  century  in 
especial,  have  been  simply  amazing — only 
commensurate,  however,  with  the  magnifi- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


cent  scale  upon  which  all  enterpr'ses  in 
that  vast,  active,  and  prosperous  region  are 
planned,  and  which  thus  so  truly  reflect 
the  intelligence,  wisdom,  moral  and  politi 
cal  genius,  and  wealth,  of  that  great  peo 
ple.  Nor  has  the  activity  in  this  splendid 
field  of  educational  achievement  been  con 
fined  to  any  particular  race,  part}',  or  de 
nomination,  the  various  Christian  bodies 
of  almost  every  name,  in  fact,  being  repre 
sented — Baptist,  Methodist,  Presbyterian, 
Congregationalist,  Roman  Catholic,  Cliris- 
tian,  Universalist,  Unitarian,  Episcopalian, 
Lu'heran,  &c.,  &c. 

The  larger  number  of  these  institutions 
are  not  only  of  comparatively  recent  origin, 
but  have  reached  a  surprising  degree  or 
condition  of  prosperity,  and  in  not  a  few 
instances  is  this  due  to  the  princely  endow 
ments  made  by  individuals.  Kentucky 
University  will  for.-ver  be  associated  with 
the  name  of  Bowman,  Cornell  with  its 
munificent  founder,  and  so  of  many  others, 
not  alone  at  the  west,  but  in  other  sections 
of  the  country  as  well.  In  Indiana.  Mich 
igan,  Missouri,  Illinois,  Wisconsin,  Missis 
sippi,  Iowa,  Ohio,  Minnesota,  Kansas, 
California, — in  fact,  throughout  the  whole 
vast  area  of  country  which  scarcely  had 
name  or  knowledge  when  the  war  for  inde 


pendence  was  being  waged  by  the  thirteen 
colonies, — are  found  seats  of  learning  from 
which  the  four  great  profes>ions  are  annu 
ally  recruited,  to  say  nothing  of  the  inde 
pendent  fields  of  literature,  science  and 
art,  in  some  leading  specialty  of  which, 
independent  of  the  standard  professions, 
so  many  find  their  life's  occupation  and 
achievements. 

In  the  opinion  of  some  of  the  wisest 
educators  of  the  present  day, — an  opinion 
also  expressed  by  Prof.  Hoyt,  in  one  of 
his  invaluable  papers  on  the  conduct  of 
universities, — the  question  is  one  of  great 
importance,  whether  the  cause  of  the 
higher  culture  and  the  interests  of  educa 
tion  generally  would  not  be  better  pro 
moted  by  raising  the  standards  of  admis 
sion  and  graduation  quite  above  the  usual 
low  level;  thus  putting  all  truly  prepara 
tory  work  upon  the  high  schools,  acade 
mies,  and  colleges,  where  it  properly 
belongs,  and  employing  the  whole  instruc 
tional  force  of  the  university  in  meeting 
the  demand  for  instruction  in  the  higher 
departments  of  learning.  There  would 
seem  to  be  no  doubt,  that,  in  a  very  large 
sense,  this  question  lies  at  the  foundation 
of  the  future  of  American  university  edu 
cation — its  character — its  results. 


LII. 

DISCOVERY  OF  THE  INHALATION  OF  ETHER  AS  A  PRE 
VENTIVE    OF   PAIN.— 1846. 


Performance  of  Surgical  Operations  Involving  the  Intensest  Torture,  During  the  Happy  Unconscious 
ness  of  the  Patient. — Account  of  the  First  Capital  Demonstration  Before  a  Crowded  and  Breathless 
Assembly. — Its  Signal  Success. — Thrill  of  Enthusiastic  Joy — Most  Beneficent  Boon  Ever  Conferred 
by  Science  upon  the  Human  Race. — Instinctive  Dread  of  Pain  — Fruitless  Search  Hitherto  for  a  Pre 
ventive. — Terror  of  the  Probe  and  Knife. — Heroes  Quail  Before  Them. — Case  of  the  Bluff  Old 
Admiral. — Discovery  of  the  Long-sought  Secret. — Sulphuric  Ether  the  Prize. — Bliss  During  Ampu 
tation  — Honor  Due  to  America. — A  Whole  World  Elated. — Medical  Men  Exultant. — Curious  Relig 
ious  Objections — Test  Case  in  Surgery. — Startling  and  Romantic  Interest. — Value  in  Public  Hos 
pitals. — War  Sufferings  Ameliorated  — Various  Effects  while  Inhaling. — Amusing  and  Extraordinary 
Case* — "Thoeht  the  Deil  had  a  Grip  o'  her!" — Odd  Talk  of  an  Innocent  Damsel. — Old  Folks 
Wanting  to  Dance  — Awards  to  the  Discoverers. 


'  The  fierce  entremltf  of  suffering  has  been  steeped  In  the  waters  of  forgetlulness,  and  the  deepest  furrow  In  the  knotted  brow  of 
agony  has  been  smoothed  forever."— PHOT.  O.  W.  UoLMBt. 


UMANITY  — even  the  hardiest 
and  bravest  portions  of  it  —  in 
stinctively  shrinks,  with  dread, 
from  the  pain  attendant  upon  a 
deliberate  cutting  of  the  living 
flesh  by  surgical  instruments. 
The  case  is  related  of  a  bluff 
old  English  admiral — one  of  the 
stoutest  hearts  that  ever  beat,  in 
a  service  whose  men  of  every 
grade  are,  to  a  proverb,  daunt- 

RELIEVIJfO   PAT*  BY  TITE  USE  OF  ETHER.  leSS, wllO,    ill   tl)6     Opening    of    llis 

distinguished  career,  had  been  engaged  in  cutting  out  an  enemy's  frigate.  From  the 
gun-boat,  he  climbed  up  the  ship's  steep  side,  and,  foremost  of  his  crew,  had  reached  the 
bulwarks,  when,  receiving  a  stunning  blow,  he  fell  into  his  boat  again,  striking  his 
back  with  great  violence.  Years  afterwards,  a  tumor  had  grown  on  the  injured 
part;  and  at  length  the  admiral— gray,  and  bent  in  years — found  it  advisable  that 
this  growth  should  be  removed.  The  man  that  never  feared  death  in  its  most  ghastly 
and  appalling  form,  now  shrank  from  the  surgeon's  knife  ;  the  removal,  contemplated  by 
the  man  of  many  battles  with  feeling  almost  akin  to  childish  fear,  was  long  deferred; 
and  at  length,  half  stupefied  by  opium  though  he  was,  a  most  unsteady  patient  did  he 
prove  during  the  operation. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


457 


Numberless  instances  have  there  been, 
too,  of  women — mothers — who,  for  their 
kindred,  have  been  at  any  time  ready  to  sac 
rifice  their  lives,by  watching  and  privation, 
in  loathsome  and  tainted  chambers  of  infec 
tious  disease,  but,  when  themselves  be 
came  victims  of  that  which  they  knew  re 
quired  a  surgical  operation,  and  which, 
without  this,  they  were  well  assured  must 
miserably  consume  them  away, —  even 
these  noble  minds,  resolute  in  the  prospect 
of  death,  have  yet  quailed  under  the  fear 
of  surgical  suffering ;  they  have  studiously 
concealed  their  malady  from  their  nearest 
friends,  and  deliberately  preferred  the 
misery  of  a  fatal,  and  unchecked,  and 
gnawing  cancer,  to  the  apprehended  tor 
ture  of  an  operation,  temporary  though  it 
be.  This  feeling  has  been  universal,  in 
all  ages,  among  the  victims  of  keen  physi 
cal  suffering. 

From  time  immemorial,  means  have 
been  sought,  and  with  partial  success,  to 
relieve  and  even  to  destroy  pain,  during 
the  manipulations  of  practical  surgery. 
For  this  purpose,  opium,  Indian  hemp, 
mesmerism,  and  nitrous  oxide  gas  and 
alcohol,  have  been  employed,  and  all  in 
their  turn  abandoned,  except  that  opium 
in  many  cases,  and  mesmerism  in  a  few, 
still  continued  to  be  used  with  imperfect 
success,  and  almost  always  with  the  subse 
quent  disadvantage  of  headache,  feverish- 
ness,  or  other  general  disorder. 

It  was  reserved  for  the  simple  inhala 
tion  of  a  certain  gas — pure  sulphuric 
ether — to  achieve  in  surgery  that  for  which 
surgeons  had  for  centuries  labored,  and 
labored  in  vain. ! 

This  was  in  1846.  A  certain  old  gentle 
man,  however, — as  the  case  is  narrated, — 
was  not  altogether  a  stranger  to  the  com 
forting  effects  of  this  same  anodyne  pro 
cess,  some  forty  years  previously.  He  had 
discovered  that  the  fumes  of  ether  could 
lull  him  into  forgetfulness  of  the  pains 
and  disquietude  of  a  bustling  and  check 
ered  life.  He  was  a  man  of  research  in 
his  way;  curious  in  beds,  baths,  and  pro 
fessing  to  understand  disease  and  its  cure 
better  by  far  than  his  fellows.  But  he 


was  loose  in  principle,  as  well  as  weak  in 
science,  and  no  doubt,  most  deservedly, 
had  many  roughnesses  in  life  which  he 
could  wish  to  rub  away.  His  mode  was 
this :  Obtaining  an  ounce  or  two  of 
ether,  he  leisurely  sniffed  up  its  vapor,  sit 
ting  softly  the  while,  and  manifestly  en 
joying  a  time  of  calmness  and  repose, 
greatly  to  his  liking.  Indeed,  on  being 
interrogated,  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
blandly  answering,  "  soothing,  sir,  sooth* 
ing  to  an  immeasurable  degree."  In  this 
oblivion  to  the  disgusting  harassments 
of  life,  he  was  in  the  habit  of  indulging 
many  times  a  day.  He  had  curiously  dis 
covered  that  the  fumes  of  ether  could 
relieve,  temporarily,  from  the  pains  of  a 
mind  ill  at  ease  ;  but  he  was  not  to  know 
that  it  could  still  more  wonderfully 
assuage  the  body's  worst  suffering. 

The  divulgement  of  this  most  beneficent 
boon  to  the  world  since  man's  moral  re 
demption — by  which  the  most  dreaded  of 
surgical  operations  can  be  performed  dur 
ing  a  happy  unconsciousness  of  the  patient 
— not  merely  with  little  suffering,  but  ab 
solutely  with  none — is  due  to  three  Ameri 
cans,  namely,  Drs.  Morton,  Jackson,  and 
Wells  ;  but  to  which  of  these  is  due  the 
priority  or  chief  merit  of  the  discovery,  is 
a  question  long  and  bitterly  discussed,  and 
still  undecided.  Certainly,  however,  the 
proceedings  of  each  of  these  gentlemen,  in 
connection  with  the  discovery,  show  un 
doubted  scientific  acuteness,  ingenuity, 
zeal  and  perseverance. 

The  enthusiasm  with  which  the  an 
nouncement  of  this  marvelous  discovery 
was  received  may  well  be  described  as 
unbounded.  Wafted  across  the  Atlantic, 
it  was  at  once  hailed  with  rapturous  ex 
ultation  in  England,  and  speedily  adopted 
in  most  of  the  large  hospitals  throughout 
the  kingdom — also,  in  the  vast  hospitals 
of  Paris,  and  in  the  numerous  institutions 
of  like  character  in  Germany,  including 
those  so  celebrated  at  Vienna  and  Berlin. 

Still,  there  were  not  wanting  those  who 
regarded  the  discovery  with  distrust,  and 
some  of  the  public  medical  institutions 
barred  their  doors  against  the  new  nlle- 


458 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


viating  agent.  Objections  based  on  relig 
ious  grounds  were  urged  against  the  em 
ployment  of  ether.  Pain,  it  was  argued, 
was  the  natural  and  intended  consequence 
of  the  primal  sin,  and  therefore  any  attempt 
to  do  away  with  it  must  be  wrong.  These 
objectors  failed  to  see  that  their  argument, 
if  it  proved  anything,  proved  too  much, 
since  it  held  with  equal  cogency  against 
any  and  every  remedial  agency,  in  all 
cases  whatsoever.  Others  opposed  the 
amesthetic  on  the  ground  that  pain  is  sal 
utary,  and  that  its  annihilation  would  be 


this,  it  was  alleged  that  the  new  agent 
might  be  used  for  infamous  purposes.  "  A 
fatal  habit,''  it  was  said,  "  had  sprung  up 
of  using  ether,  like  opium,  for  purposes  of 
exhilaration,  to  all  intents  intoxication. 
A  burglar  forced  his  way  into  a  mansion 
when  all  its  occupants  were  in  profound 
slumber,  and,  applying  ether  to  them,  he 
had  the  house  all  to  himself."  Frequent 
accidents,  moreover,  resulted  from  the  use 
of  impure  ether  by  unskillful  hands,  so  fre 
quent,  indeed,  that  prosecution  was  threat 
ened  for  administering  it  at  all. 


Ho  RACE  WE  us 

THE  THREE  CLAIMANTS  OF  THE  DISCOVERY  OF  PAINLESS  SURGERY,   BY  ETHER. 


hazardous  to  the  patient.  And  an  emi 
nent  physiologist  expressed  the  doubt 
whether  there  were  a  true  advantage  in 
suppressing  pain.  "  It  is  a  trivial  mat 
ter,"  aaid  this  stoic,  "  to  suffer,  and  a  dis 
covery  whose  object  is  the  prevention  of 
pain  is  of  slight  interest." 

Then,  too,  letters  came  pouring  in  upon 
the  discoverer  from  all  over  the  civilized 
world,  upbraiding  him  with  having  an 
nounced  the  claims  of  a  humbug.  He 
also  received  constant  visits  from  profes 
sional  gentlemen,  who  questioned  the  ac 
curacy  of  the  experiments.  Worse  than 


But  the  domain  of  the  grim  demon, 
Pain,  having  once  been  successfully  in 
vaded,  humanity  and  science  were  ill-dis 
posed  to  yield  the  vantage  ground.  One 
of  the  most  eminent  professors  of  surgery 
in  America,  Dr.  0.  W.  Holmes,  said : 
"  The  knife  is  searching  for  disease — the 
pulleys  are  dragging  back  dislocated 
limbs — nature  herself  is  working  out  the 
primal  curse,  which  doomed  the  tenderest 
of  her  creatures  to  the  sharpest  of  her 
trials;  but  the  fierce  extremity  of  her 
suffering  has  been  steeped  in  the  waters 
of  forgetfulness,  and  the  deepest  furrow 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


459 


in  the  knotted  brow  of  agony  has  been 
smoothed  forever."  So,  too,  that  world- 
renowned  surgeon  and  anatomist,  Dr. 
John  C.  Warren, — grave,  venerable,  and 
dispassionate, — exclaimed : 

"  Who  could  have  imagined,  that  draw- 
iny  the  knife  over  the  delicate  skin  of  the 
face  might  produce  a  sensation  of  un 
mixed  delight! — that  the  turning  and 
ticisting  of  instruments  in  the  most  sensi 
tive  bladder  might  be  accompanied  l)>j  a 
beautiful  dream!" 

It  was  natural  enough,  certainly,  that 
benevolence  should  prompt  the  humane 
surgeon  to  such  utterances  of  congratula 
tion,  for  it  supplied  to  him  a  desideratum, 
long  sought,  for  the  relief  of  the  excmcia- 
ting  pain  they  were  necessarily  obliged  to 
inflict  in  the  practice  of  their  profession. 
For  screaming,  and  struggles,  and  intense 
suffering  under  the  surgeon's  knife,  ether 
ization  substituted  complete  exemption 
from  pain,  associated  in  some  with  the 
quietude,  mental  and  corporeal,  of  deep 
sleep ;  in  others,  with  pleasing  dreams, 
imaginary  busy  scenes,  and  sweet  music  ; 
and  in  others,  with  a  perfect  consciousness 
of  surrounding  objects  and  events.  The 
obstetrician  finds  in  it  the  means  of  alle 
viating  that  distress  with  which  woman 
has  always  been  afflicted,  when  in  the 
act  of  becoming  a  mother.  To  the  physi 
cian  it  affords  one  of  the  most  useful,  as 
it  is  one  of  his  most  prompt,  remedies. 
He,  before,  had  no  reliable  means  of  re 
lieving  the  spasms  of  tetanus;  he  not 
urifrequently  failed  to  procure  sleep,  in 
delirium  tremens,  when  the  question  was 
one  of  sleep  or  death;  his  before  pallia 
tive  remedy,  opium,  for  the  pain  of  colic, 
too  often  purchased  temporary  relief  at  the 
expense  of  an  aggravation  of  the  cause  of 
the  disease,  and  of  increased  difficulties  in 
its  cure ;  and  he  occasionally  witnessed 
the  breaking  up  of  the  system  of  a  neu 
ralgic  patient,  more  as  a  consequence  of 
repeated  large  doses  of  opium,  than  of  the 
disease  itself. 

Heretofore,  also,  the  shor.k  of  all  serious 
operations  had  been  formidable.  The 
patient,  however  resigned  and  courageous, 


was  deeply  impressed  in  system ;  the 
pulse  became  feeble,  the  surface  cold  and 
pale,  the  eye  dim,  respiration  troubled, 
and  the  whole  powers  of  life  brought  low. 
With  the  use  of  ether,  this  is  otherwise. 
Parturition  may  take  place,  thighs  may  be 
amputated,  stones  extracted,  tumors  re 
moved,  dentistry  in  all  its  branches  per 
formed  ;  the  chief  deviations  from  the  nor 
mal  characters  of  health  being,  in  all  these 
cases,  such  as  are  known  to  be  the  effects  of 
ether — and,  accordingly,  both  manageable 
and  transient.  In  the  army,  it  has  been 
found  of  incalculable  service,  in  cases  re 
quiring  the  use  of  the  probe  and  and  knife, 
— the  sadly  ample  opportunity  in  this  field 
during  the  war  in  the  Crimea,  in  Mexico, 
and  on  the  battle-grounds  of  the  South, 
adding  fresh  triumphs  to  the  discovery. 

It  will  be  interesting  to  give,  at  this 
point,  an  account  of  the  first  surgical 
operation  performed  under  the  influence 
of  ether,  the  result  of  which  so  fully  de 
monstrated  this  glorious  truth  of  science. 
It  occurred  at  the  Massachusetts  General 
Hospital,  the  operator  being  Dr.  Ha3rward. 

In  his  own  narration  of  the  circum 
stances  of  this  deeply  interesting  and  most 
important  occasion,  Dr.  Hay  ward  says  :  "  It 
was  my  fortune  to  perform  the  first  capital 
operation  on  a  patient  rendered  insensible 
by  the  inhalation  of  sulphuric  ether.  It 
rarely  falls  to  the  lot  of  a  professional 
man  to  be  the  witness  of  a  scene  of  more 
intense  interest.  The  operating-room  was 
crowded ;  many  were  obliged  to  stand. 
Besides  the  class  of  students  in  attend 
ance  on  the  lectures,  numbering  more  than 
one  hundred,  and  many  of  the  principal 
physicians  and  surgeons  of  the  city  and 
neighborhood,  there  were  present  several 
clergymen,  lawyers,  and  other  individuals, 
from  the  various  callings  of  life.  When 
I  entered  the  theater,  before  the  patient 
was  brought  in,  I  found  it,  to  my  surprise, 
filled  in  every  part,  except  the  floor  on 
which  the  table  stood,  with  persons  on 
whose  countenances  was  depicted  the  al 
most  painful  anxiety  with  which  they 
awaited  the  result  of  the  experiment  they 
were  about  to  witness.  I  simply  told  them 


460 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


that  I  had  decided,  with  the  advice  of  my 
colleagues,  to  allow  the  patient  on  whom  I 
was  to  operate,  to  inhale  an  article  which 
was  said  to  have  the  power  of  annulling 
pain.  The  patient  was  then  brought  in. 
She  was  a  delicate  looking  girl  of  about 
twenty  years  of  age,  who  had  suffered  for 
a  long  time  from  a  scrofulous  disease  of 
the  knee-joint.  It  had  at  length  sup 
purated  ;  there  were  extensive  openings 
into  the  cavity  of  the  joint;  the  cartilages 
were  ulcerated,  and  partly  absorbed  ;  the 
bones  carious,  and  symptoms  of  hectic 
fever  had  already  made  their  appearance. 
As  soon  as  she  was  well  arranged  on  the 
table  I  told  her  that  I  should  let  her 
breathe  something  which  I  hoped  would 
prevent  her  from  suffering  much  from  the 
operation,  and  that  she  need  not  be  afraid 
of  breathing  it  freely."  The  critical 
nature  of  this  case  can  easily  be  appre 
ciated,  even  by  the  unprofessional  mind, 
and  the  result  is  fraught  with  deep  and 
romantic  interest. 

It  being  desirable  that  the  amputation 
should  be  performed  as  rapidly  as  possible, 
Dr.  Hay  ward  decided  to  accomplish  it 
by  means  of  the  flap  operation.  One  per 
son  was  to  compress  the  artery,  another  to 
withdraw  the  flaps,  a  third  to  hand  the  in 
struments,  and  a  fourth  to  watch  the  pulse. 
Dr.  Hay  ward  grasped  the  patient's  limb 
with  his  left  hand,  and  held  the  amputat 
ing  knife  behind  him  in  his  right,  care 
fully  concealed  from  her  view.  The 
mouth-piece  of  the  inhaling  instrument 
was  then  put  into  her  mouth,  and  she  was 
directed  to  take  long  inspirations.  After 
breathing  in  this  way  a  short  time,  the 
nostrils  were  compressed,  so  that  all  the 
air  that  went  into  the  lungs  must  first 
pass  through  the  machine,  and  of  course 
be  mixed  with  the  vapor  of  the  ether. 
She  breathed  with  perfect  ease,  and  with 
out  struggling,  and  in  about  three  minutes 
from  the  time  the  instrument  was  put 
into  her  mouth,  Dr  Morton  said,  '  She  is 
ready.'  A  death-like  silence  reigned  in 
the  room ;  no  one  moved,  or  hardly 
breathed.  The  doctor  passed  the  knife 
directly  through  the  limb,  and  brought  it 


out  as  rapidly  as  he  could,  and  made  the 
upper  flap.  The  patient  gave  no  sign  of 
feeling  or  consciousness,  but  looked  like 
one  in  a  deep,  quiet  sleep.  Every  other 
person  in  the  room  took  a  full  inspiration 
that  was  distinctly  audible,  and  seemed  to 
feel  that  they  could  now  breathe  again. 
The  second  flap  was  then  made,  the  bone 
sawed,  five  arteries  were  tied,  and  as  the 
doctor  was  tightening  the  ligature  upon 
the  sixth  and  last  she  groaned,  being  the 
first  indication  of  sensibility  that  had 
been  given.  Nothing  more  was  done  than 
to  bring  the  flaps  together,  cover  the 
stump  with  cloths  dipped  in  cold  water, 
and  apply  two  or  three  turns  of  a  roller  to 
keep  them  in  place.  Her  consciousness 
soon  returned  ;  she  was  wholly  ignorant 
that  the  operation  had  been  done!  For 
some  time  she  would  not  believe  it,  and 
said  that  she  had  felt  nothing  till  the 
doctor  tied  the  last  artery.  The  operation 
lasted  a  minute  and  three-quarters. 

The  phenomena,  or  effects,  produced  by 
the  administration  of  ether,  are  extremely 
various,  depending  much,  of  course,  upon 
the  temperament,  habits,  and  condition  of 
the  patient.  Sometimes  the  dream  is  ex 
quisitely  charming,  and  the  patient  seems 
passed  into  another  and  a  better  world. 
Sometimes  the  opposite  state  obtains,  the 
patient  betraying  manifest  uneasiness 
while  in  the  trance,  by  restless,  staring, 
anguished  eye-balls,  by  groaning,  and  by 
wrestling  movements  of  the  body.  And 
these  are  not  loath  to  emerge  from  the 
effects  of  the  drug,  while  the  former  part 
with  them  grudgingly.  One  poor  girl,  for 
instance,  had  struggled  hard  during  an 
amputation,  yet  felt  no  pain  ;  and,  on  com 
ing  to  herself,  thankfulness  was  expressed 
in  every  feature,  as  well  as  by  her  blithe 
tongue,  for  she  "  tliodit  the  deil  had  a 
gripo*  her  a'  the  time," 

In  some  cases,  the  dreamer  is  falling  from 
a  great  height  rapidly,  down  and  down  into 
some  unfathomable  abyss.  In  other  cases, 
the  dream  is  warlike ;  personal  to  the 
dreamer;  or  of  by-gone  days,  implicating 
some  great  military  demonstration  ;  and 
the  crack  of  tooth-pulling  has  thus  passed 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


461 


off  as  the  din  of  ordnance.  Sometimes,  in 
youth,  the  dream  has  been  "  all  fun  ;"  and 
the  dreamer  has  been  anxious  to  be  back 
into  the  midst  of  his  pleasant  pastime 
again,  even  at  the  cost  of  another  tooth- 
drawing.  The  patient,  if  a  wanderer,  and 
then  in  a  strange  land,  may  dream  pleas 
antly  of  home — "  she  had  been  home,  it 
was  beautiful,  and  she  had  been  gone  a 
month  ; "  so  said  one  poor  woman  in  the 
midst  of  what,  without  the  ether,  would 
have  been  agony. 

Sometimes  the  dream  passes  steadily  on 
to  completion,  sometimes  it  is  abruptly 
closed  by  some  critical  procedure  on  the 
part  of  the  operator — the  extraction  of  a 
tooth,  with  a  sudden  wrench,  for  example. 
A  soldier  dreams  of  guns  and  bayonets, 
and  strife,  and  clamor  ;  a  sailor,  of  ships, 
and  storms,  and  grog ;  an  Irishman  of 
whiskey  and  shillalahs,  and  a  "  skrim- 
mage  ; "  a  boy  of  marbles,  tops,  and  "  lots 
of  fun  ;  "  a  mother,  of  home  and  children ; 
a  girl,  of  gala-days  and  finery. 

A  tippler  fancies  he  is  in  the  grog-shop, 
and  there  he  may  enjoy  himself  hugely — 
or  he  may  dream  "  his  wife  came  to  fetch 
him."  Quarrelsome  men  grow  pugilistic, 
and  coats  may  be  doffed  with  appropriate 
accompaniment  of  word  and  action. 
Young  men,  having  some  one  in  their  list 
of  female  acquaintance  dearer  than  the 
rest,  grow  active  lovers,  and  in  lone  wralks, 
earnest  conversations,  or  soft  whisperings, 
seem  to  make  rare  progress  in  their  suit. 
The  swearing  and  dissolute  may  indulge 
in  oaths  and  profane  jests.  The  man  of 
fervent  piety,  who  is  habitually  looking 
heavenward,  may  not  only  suppose  himself 
translated  to  the  realms  of  bliss,  but  may 
take  part  in  imagined  exercises  there.  A 
patient  of  this  class  was  known  thus  to 
employ  himself  immediately  after  a  pain 
ful  operation ;  four  verses  of  a  psalm  were 
sung  by  him  very  loudly,  with  his  eyes 
lixed,  his  body  in  a  tremor,  and  intense 
fervor  shown  in  every  movement ;  he 
would  not  be  interrupted,  and  could 
scarcely  be  prevailed  upon  to  leave  the 
operation-room,  seeing  that  he  found  him 
self  so  wonderfully  happy  there — said  he 


had  been  in  heaven,  and  had  seen  his 
Savior;  on  reaching  his  bed,  he  fell  on  his 
knees  and  was  rapt  in  prayer. 

Not  always,  however,  is  the  dream  con 
sistent  with  the  character.  Among  the 
instances  showing  this,  is  that  of  a  young, 
simpering  and  innocent  damsel,  who, 
addressing  a  most  amiable  and  excellent 
dentist,  knitting  her  brow  into  something 
more  than  a  frown,  clenching  her  fist,  and 
scowling  defiance,  vowed  in  the  most  up 
roarious  tone  and  manner,  that  if  he  ven 
tured  near  her  with  his  profane  touch, 
"big  blackguard,  as  he  was,  she'd  knock 
him  doivn."  And  so,  too,  staid,  demure, 
elderly  persons,  have,  in  most  abandoned 
gayety,  insisted  on  the  operator  forthwith 
joining  them  in  a  joyous  polka ! 

In  plain  language,  as  in  plain  fact — says 
an  English  reviewer,  whose  interesting 
resume  is  here  quoted  —  the  patient  is 
drunk.  Sometimes  the  consciousness  of 
this  condition  is  made  apparent  by  the 
sensations  which  are  induced  in  the  early 
period  of  inhalation.  "  You'll  have  me 
drunk  !  "  cried  one  ;  "  Oh,  you  rascals  !  I 
know  what  you  are  ;  "  evidently  supposing 
that  he  had  fallen  into  loose  society,  and 
that  his  companions  had  a  design  on  him. 
But  it  is  on  coming  out  of  the  trance,  that 
the  intoxication  shows  most.  The  patient 
sways  as  he  tries  to  stand ;  is  garrulous, 
sprightly,  and  humorous;  and  often  in 
sists  on  shaking  hands  with  all  and 
sundry.  The  unsteadiness  of  gait,  and 
lightness  of  head,  sometimes  have  an 
inconvenient  duration,  as  is  illustrated  in 
the  case  of  a  most  worthy  lady,  who,  leav 
ing  the  dentist  too  soon,  had  to  grope  her 
way  along  the  railing  of  the  street,  in 
noonday,  and  ran  no  slight  risk  of  losing 
all  reputation  for  sobriety. 

Among  the  many  amusing  examples  of 
the  effect  produced  by  the  administration 
of  the  anaesthetic — in  addition  to  its  pri 
mary  quality  of  annulling  pain — the  follow 
ing  may  be  cited  :  An  Irish  woman,  who 
had  never  heard  of  ether  previous  to  call 
ing  upon  the  dentist  for  the  purpose  of 
having  a  large  molar  tooth  extracted,  took 
it  on  being  told  that  she  would  suffer  no 


4G2 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


pain,  and  would,  probably,  have  an  inter 
view  with  her  friends  in  the  old  country. 
Just  as  its  influence  commenced,  the 
doctor  remarked  that  he  would  like  to 
have  her  observe  what  occupation  her 
friends  were  engaged  in,  if  she  succeeded 
in  finding  them.  The  tooth  was  drawn ; 
she  moved  not  a  muscle  of  the  face,  but 
remained  as  in  a  quiet  sleep,  for  about  one 


machinery,  declared  herself  unhurt  by  the 
operation,  and  wished  the  doctor  to  see  if 
there  was  not  "another tooth  what  wanted 
to  be  drew" 

Another  example  of  this  class,  was  that 
of  a  middle-aged  Irishman,  who  had  sus 
tained  compound  fracture  of  the  leg.  The 
fracture  had  not  united,  in  consequence  of 
the  presence  of  a  dead  piece  of  bone,  and 


MONUMENT  ERECTED   IN   HONOR  OF  THE   DISCOVERY  OF  ETHER. 


minute.  Upon  opening  her  eyes,  she 
exclaimed,  "I  have  seen  all  my  friends; 
they  were  en  gaged  in  spinning — and  don't 
I  hear  their  wheels  now,  sure?"  She 
said  it  appeared  to  her  as  though  she  had 
been  absent  many  munths.  She  recol 
lected  that  she  went  home  in  a  steam 
vewel,  heard  the  noise  of  steam  and 


it  became  necessary  to  remove  this  by  a 
painful  operation,  in  the  following  manner: 
The  patient  was  seated  on  a  table,  and 
the  inhalation  was  applied.  At  first,  littie 
effect  was  produced,  but  after  some  min 
utes,  the  patient  fell  backwards,  as  in  a 
swoon.  The  operator  wras  then  about  to 
proceed;  but  the  man  immediately  ob- 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


463 


jected,  saying  that  "he  was  not  asleep,  and 
that  he  trusted  nothing  would  be  done 
till  he  was  asleep."  For  full  twenty  min 
utes  more  the  inhalation  went  on,  the  man 
confused  and  talkative,  but  wide-awake, 
and  occasionally  expressing  very  emphati 
cally  his  conviction  that  "  it  would  not  do." 
At  length,  however,  while  in  this  wakeful 
state,  the  operation  was  begun.  Incisions 
were  made  on  the  shin,  and  flaps  were  dis 
sected  off  so  as  to  expose  the  bone  beneath. 
A  portion  of  this  was  sawn  and  clipped 
through,  and  then  the  dead  bone  was 
removed.  Only  during  the  clipping  of  the 
bone  with  strong  straining  pliers  did  any 
sign  of  feeling  escape  from  the  patient, 
who  was  busy  inhaling  all  the  while,  and 
now  and  then  protesting  that  "it  wouldn't 
do."  The  operation  occupied  about  ten 
minutes,  and,  from  the  highly  sensitive 
nature  of  the  parts  involved,  must  have 
been  attended  with  excruciating  suffering 
under  ordinary  circumstances.  After  it 
was  over,  the  operator  said  to  the  patient — 

"  I  suppose  you  won't  let  me  operate 
to-day  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not,"  replied  the  patient, 
"  it  won't  do ;  I  must  be  asleep.  The 
thing  hasn't  succeeded  with  me,  and  I  am 
sure  it  can't  succeed  with  any  one  else,  for 
I  did  everything  I  could  to  get  asleep,  for 
my  own  sake,  and  I'd  do  anything  to  plase 
you." 

lt  Then  you  won't  even  let  me  make  a 
cut  into  the  leg?" 

"  No ;  I  must  be  asleep  ;  we  can  try  it 
another  time." 

This  plain  proof  of  his  utter  unconscious 
ness  of  the  operation  having  been  per 
formed  was  acknowledged  by  the  specta 
tors  in  a  hearty  round  of  applause.  The 
patient  then  sat  up,  and,  seeing  the  wound, 
burst  into  an  immoderate  fit  of  laughter, 
saying — 

"No  doubt  there's  blood,  or  something 
very  like  it;  but  I  haven't  felt  a  single 
thing  done  to  my  leg.  That  bates  the 
globe  !  " 

On  being  asked  decidedly  as  to  his 
having  felt  anything,  he  repeatedly  an 
swered  "Not  a  ha'  porth."  He  got  into 


amazing  spirits,  and  refused  to  leave  the 
room  until  he  had  told  "all  about  the  tol- 
drums  of  the  business."  And  then,  with 
the  manner  of  a  tipsy  man,  and  very 
happy,  he  kept  surgeons  and  students  in  a 
roar  of  laughter  for  some  minutes  with  a 
narrative  of  his  condition  during  the  in 
halation,  which,  Irish-like,  seemed  to  have 
an  interminable  medley  of  imaginary 
fights  and  "killings"  going  on  around 
him. 

It  has  already  been  stated,  that  Drs. 
Jackson,  Morton,  and  Wells,  respectively, 
claim  the  honor  of  having  discovered  this 
great  fact  in  chemical  and  medical  science, 
and  the  claim  of  each  is  supported  by  a 
formidable  army  of  names  and  evidence. 
One  of  the  most  candid  investigators  of 
the  character  and  weight  of  these  several 
and  conflicting  claims,  has  presented  the 
case  in  this  light,  namely:  That  to  Dr. 
Wells  unquestionably  belongs  the  merit 
of  having  first  demonstrated  the  happy 
idea  of  deadening  sensibility  in  painful 
operations,  by  using  both  nitrous  oxide 
and  sulphuric  ether ;  that  to  Dr.  Jackson, 
the  thanks  of  the  world  are  due  for  lend 
ing  that  influence  which  his  well-earned 
reputation  qualified  him  to  do,  in  estab 
lishing  confidence  in  the  public  mind  in 
the  use  of  sulphuric  ether,  as  a  substitute 
for  the  nitrous  oxide ;  and  that,  to  Dr. 
Morton's  indefatigable  exertions  in  secur 
ing  the  attention  of  leading  medical  men 
to  the  subject,  was  due  the  rapid  adoption 
of  sulphuric  ether  in  connection  with  the 
practice  of  surgery.  But,  singularly 
enough,  though  the  French  Academy  has 
acknowledged,  by  pecuniary  and  honorary 
awards,  the  indebtedness  of  mankind  to 
the  American  discoverers  of  this  vast 
blessing  to  humanity,  the  American  gov 
ernment  has  thus  far  failed  to  confer  any 
reward  upon  any  one  of  the  distinguished 
claimants.  A  costly  and  superb  monu 
ment,  designed  and  executed  with  con 
summate  skill  by  Ward,  the  eminent 
sculptor,  and  erected  at  the  cost  of  a 
wealthy  citizen  of  Boston,  in  honor  of  this 
great  discovery,  now  adorns  the  public 
garden  of  that  city. 


LIII. 

INVENTION  OF  THAT  WONDROUS  PIECE  OF  MECHANISM, 
THE    SEWING-MACHINE.— 1346. 


Romantic  Genius  and  Perseverance  Displayed  in  its  Production  — Toils  of  the  Inventor  in  His  Garret 
— World  Wide  Introduction  of  the  Device. — Upwards  of  One  Thousand  Patents  Taken  Out  in  the 
United  States. — The  Industrial  Interests  of  the  Country  Affected  to  the  Amount  of  $500,000,000 
Annually. — The  Humble  Inventor  Becomes  a  Millionaire. — The  Main  Principle  Involved. — Compari 
son  with  Hand  Sewing  — How  it  was  Suggested. — Listening  to  Some  Advantage. — History  of  Mr. 
Howe's  Kfforts — Ingenuity,  Struggles,  Triumphs. — Value  of  a  Friend  in  Need — A  Machine  at  Last. 
— Its  Parts,  Capabilities,  etc. — Reception  by  the  Public. — Doubt  Succeeded  by  Admiration. — Great 
Popularity  and  Demand. — Wearisome  Litigation  with  Rivals — Interesting  Question  of  Priority. — 
Decided  in  Howe's  Favor — He  Rises  to  Affluence. — Improvements  by  Others. — Unique  and  Useful 
Devices. — Number  of  Machines  Produced. — Time  and  Labor  Saved. — Effect  Upon  Prices. — New 
Avenues  of  Labor  Opened. 


"The  invention  oil  admired. 

Ami  each  Imw  he  to  bt  the  inventor  misted. 

Bo  plain  it  neemrd  oni-e  found — which  yet  un-found. 

Moat  would  Imvt  thought  impossible." 


IFFERENCE  of  opinion  there  may 
be,  with  regard  to   the   abstract 
question,  who  first  conceived  the 
peculiar     principle     involved    in 
sewing  by  machinery,  and  even 
in  respect  to  who  was   the  original   con 
structor  of  a  machine  capable  of  fulfilling 
this  idea  ;  but,  so  far  as  actual  demonstra 
tion  of  its  feasibleness  and  utility  is  con 
cerned,   and   for   the   great    results    which 
have  followed  that  demonstration,  the  world 
must  be   considered   as  indebted  to  Elias 
Howe,  Jr.,  a  Massachusetts  mechanic,  born 
and  reared  in  obscure  circumstances,  and 
at    an    early    age    thrown    upon    his    own 
resources  of  industrious  endeavor,  for  simple   sub 
sistence. 

It  may  be  remarked,  as  a  general  fact,  that  the 
peculiar   or   original    principle    characterizing  the 
THB  INVENTOR  TOILING  IN  HIS  GARUET.    modern  scwi iig-machi ne,  consists  in  the  use  of  two 

threads,  one  being  fed  by  a  needle,  and  the  other — 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


465 


the  wrong  side  thread,  or,  as  it  has  been 
termed,  the  auxiliary  thread — being  sup 
plied  by  a  shuttle  and  bobbin.  The  needle 
is  secured  to  a  stock,  whose  movement, 
caused  by  arms  and  levers,  drives  its  point 
through  the  material  to  be  sewed;  the 
eye  of  the  needle,  at  a  moderate  distance 
from  the  point,  carries  the  thread  through 
and  then  retires  leaving  a  loop,  through 
which  loop  a  shuttle  is  passed,  on  the 
under  side  of  the  material  to  be  sewed; 
this  shuttle  carries  a  quantity  of  thread 
upon  a  spool,  which  it  supplies  as  the  seam 
progresses.  The  needle  on  retiring  draws 
up  the  loop,  and  thus  closes  the  seam, 
which  on  the  upper  or  face  side  of  the 
work  presents  the  appearance  of  what  is 
called  a  'row  of  stitching,'  and  on  the 
under,  a  close  resemblance,  but  differing 
slightly.  The  return,  or  rotation  of  the 
shuttle  in  its  orbit,  is  a  matter  of  course, 
and  the  work  thus  goes  on  continuously 
and  with  great  rapidity. 

The  feed,  or  the  progressive  movement 
of  the  material  to  be  sewed  under  the 
needle,  is  accomplished  in  various  ways — 
primarily,  by  means  of  the  friction  of  a 
feeding  wheel,  whose  roughened  surface 
creates  sufficient  adhesion  to  move  the 
material  forward  at  the  requisite  intervals. 
This  feed  is  effected  by  the  ordinary 
means  of  a  racket-wheel  and  click,  or  paul, 
the  latter  being  capable  of  adjustment 
through  shifting  levers,  so  as  to  give  a 
longer  or  shorter  stitch,  at  the  will  of  the 
operator,  or  the  requirements  of  the  work. 
These  devices  and  arrangements,  witb 
such  improved  modifications  as  experience 
and  ingenuity  have  suggested  from  time  to 
time,  constitute  the  American  sewing- 
machine. 

Although  the  use  of  the  sewing-machine 
has  become  general  only  within  a  compar 
atively  recent  period,  the  instrument  is, 
in  a  certain  sense,  an  old  invention.  The 
needle  with  the  eye  in  the  center,  and 
double-pointed,  is  beautifully  employed  in 
the  embroidery  machine,  which  is  an  old 
French  device.  This  machine  worked 
upon  cloth  as  many  as  sixty  similar  figures 
or  flowers  at  the  same  time ;  the  whole 
30 


being  directed  by  one  hand,  who,  by  the 
aid  of  a  pentagraphic  guide  on  a  prepared 
pattern,  pointed  the  needles  to  their  appro 
priate  place  of  entrance,  and  returned  them 
with  unerring  certainty  and  exactitude. 
The  earliest  form  of  stitch  made  use  of 
was  the  'chain  stitch,'  which  is  still 
employed  for  ornamental  purposes,  but  is 
not  approved  of  where  strength  and  dura 
bility  are  required.  The  next  stitch  in 
order  was  the  '  running  stitch,'  and  was 
accomplished  by  means  of  a  needle  having 
an  eye  in  the  middle  and  points  at  each 
end  ;  this  has  been  extensively  used  for 
the  cheaper  kinds  of  work,  but  does  not 
insure  durability.  The  next  form  of  stitch 
is  that  already  described,  as  formed  by 
means  of  two  threads,  with  a  needle  and 
shuttle  ; — and  this  opens  up  the  wonderful 
era  of  modern  sewing-machines,  beginning 
with  the  introduction  to  the  public  of  that 
by  Mr.  Howe. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  follow  Mr. 
Howe  through  all  the  details  of  his  varied 
experience  during  his  early  years.  Suffice 
it  to  say,  that  it  was  at  Boston,  when  in 
his  twentieth  year,  and  after  he  had 
learned  the  rudiments  of  his  trade  in  one 
of  the  machine  shops  of  Lowell,  and  sub 
sequently  in  Cambridge,  working  side  by 
side  with  Nathaniel  P.  Banks,  that  the 
thought  of  sewing  by  machinery  was  first 
suggested  to  his  mind.  As  related  by 
Mr.  Parton,  in  his  admirable  magazine 
sketch  of  Howe,  this  singularly  fortuitous 
incident  happened  in  this  wise : — In  the 
year  1839,  two  men  in  Boston,  one  a 
mechanic  and  the  other  a  capitalist,  were 
striving  to  produce  a  knitting-machine, 
which  proved  to  be  a  task  beyond  their 
strength.  When  the  inventor  was  at  his 
wit's  end,  his  capitalist  brought  the 
machine  to  the  shop  of  Ari  Davis,  to  see 
if  that  eccentric  genius  could  suggest  the 
solution  of  the  difficulty,  and  make  the  ma 
chine  work.  The  shop,  resolving  itself  into 
a  committee  of  the  whole,  gathered  about 
the  knitting-machine  and  its  proprietor, 
and  were  listening  to  an  explanation  of  its 
principle,  when  Davis,  in  his  wild,  extrava 
gant  way,  broke  in  with  the  question — 


466 


OUK  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1S76. 


"  What  are  you  bothering  yourselves 
with  a  knitting-machine  for '!  Why  don't 
you  make  a  sewing-machine  ?  " 

"  I  wish  I  could,"  said  the  capitalist : 
"but  it  can't  be  done." 

"  Oh,  yes,  it  can,"  said  Davis ;  "  I  can 
make  a  sewing-machine  myself." 

"  Well,"  said  the  other,  "  you  do  it, 
Davis,  and  I'll  insure  you  an  independent 
fortune." 

Among  the  workmen  who  stood  by  and 
listened  to  this  conversation — and  in  this 
instance  at  least  the  old  adage  concern 
ing  listeners  appears  to  have  been  reversed 
— says  Parton,  was  Howe  ;  and  from  that 
time  he  was  in  the  habit,  in  his  leisure 


moments,  of  meditating  devices  for  sewing 
by  machinery.  Having  inherited  a  con 
stitution  hardly  strong  enough  for  the 
work  of  a  machinist,  and  burdened  even 
in  .his  opening  manhood  with  the  care  of  a 
growing  family,  his  attention  was  more 
and  more  concentrated  upon  the  project 
of  building  a  machine  which  would  furnish 
him  a  livelihood  more  easily  earned.  In 
December,  1845,  upon  a  small  capital,  pro 
vided  by  the  generosity  of  an  old  friend, 
he  shut  himself  up  in  a  garret  at  Cam 
bridge,  and  set  himself  seriously  to  the 
task  of  inventing  a  sewing  machine. 
After  about  six  months  of  incessant  labor 


and  reflection  he  produced  the  first  ma 
chine  that  ever  sewed  a  seam,  and  he  was 
soon  the  wearer  of  a  suit  of  clothes  made 
by  its  assistance.  This  first  machine, 
which  is  one  of  great  beauty  and  finish,  is 
still  in  existence,  an  object  of  peculiar 
interest  to  the  curious  who  inspect  it;  and 
it  will  sew  ten  times  as  fast  as  a  woman 
can  sew  by  hand.  Having  patented  the 
machine,  and  finding  the  tailors  of  Amer 
ica  averse  to  its  introduction,  he  went  to 
England,  where  he  succeeded  in  selling 
two  machines ;  but  found  so  little  encour 
agement  that  he  would  have  starved  to 
death  but  for  the  aid  of  friends,  and  he 
resolved  to  return  home,  or  at  least  to  send 
his  family.  So  pinched  was  he, 
while  in  London,  that  he  fre 
quently  borrowed  small  sums  of 
his  friend,  Mr.  Inglis — on  one 
occasion  a  shilling,  with  which  he 
bought  some  beans,  and  cooked 
and  ate  them  in  his  own  room, — 
and  through  him  also  obtained 
some  credit  for  provisions.  Ar 
riving  home,  after  an  absence  of 
about  two  years,  he  found  that  the 
sewing-machine  was  a  conspicuous 
object  of  public  attention ;  doubt 
had  been  succeeded  by  admiration 
of  its  qualities;  and  several  ingen 
ious  men  having  experimented, 
had  finally  improved  upon  the  ma 
chine  as  originally  constructed. 
A  war  of  litigation  ensued,  and, 
after  several  years,  Mr.  Howe's 
claim  to  be  the  original  inventor  was 
legally  and  irreversibly  established,  the 
judge  deciding  that  'there  was  no  evidence 
which  left  a  shadow  of  doubt  that,  for  all 
the  benefit  conferred  upon  the  public  by 
the  introduction  of  a  sewing-machine,  the 
public  are  indebted  to  Mr.  Howe.'  To 
him,  therefore,  all  other  inventors  or 
improvers  had  to  pay  tribute.  From 
being  a  poor  man,  Howe  became,  in  a 
few  years,  one  of  the  most  noted  mil 
lionaires  in  America ;  and  his  bust,  exe 
cuted  by  Ellis,  shows  a  man  of  marked 
personal  appearance  and  striking  natural 
endowments. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


467 


But  here  the  very  singular  circumstances 
relating  to  the  alleged  priority  of  Mr. 
Walter  Hunt's  invention,  as  described  by 
a  graphic  and  well-informed  writer  in  the 
New  York  Galaxy, — showing  how  preca 
rious,  at  best,  is  the  basis  upon  which 
even  the  most  impartial  of  legal  conclu 
sions  are  arrived  at, — may  well  be  pre 
sented,  as  exhibiting  the  trials  of  inventors 
and  public  benefactors  :  It  was  between 
the  years  1832  and  1834,  that  Mr.  Hunt, 
in  his  own  workshop  in  Amos  street,  New 
York  city,  invented,  built,  and  put  into 
full  and  effective  operation  a  machine  for 
sewing,  stitching,  and  seaming  cloth. 
This  first  machine  was  made  principally 
by  the  inventor's  own  hands.  It  was  the 
pioneer  sewing-machine  of  America,  and 
the  first  really  successful  one  of  the  world. 
There  had  already  been  a  French  inven 
tion,  a  tambour  machine  for  ornamenting 
gloves;  but  it  was  of  very  little  general 
utility.  These  machines  of  Walter  Hunt 
all  contained  the  invention  of  the  curved 
needle  with  the  eye  near  the  point,  the 
shuttle  and  their  combination,  and  they 
originated  the  famous  interlocked  stitch 
with  two  threads.  Many  samples  of  cloth 
were  perfectly  sewn  by  these  machines, 
and  many  of  the  friends  and  neighbors  of 
the  inventor  came  to  see  them  work.  At 
length,  one  G.  A.  Arrowsmith  was  so  well 
satisfied  with  the  working  of  the  machines, 
that  he  bought  them,  in  1834,  and  there 
with  the  right  to  obtain  letters-patent. 
But  no  sooner  had  Arrowsmith  got  this 
right,  than  he  became  impressed  both  with 
the  vastness  of  the  undertaking  and  with 
the  prejudice  which  any  scheme  appar 
ently  tending  to  impoverish  poor  seam 
stresses  would  awaken.  At  the  same  time 
he  became  involved  in  pecuniary  disaster, 
and  for  years  did  nothing  with  the 
machine.  Fortunately  for  Mr.  Hunt's 
fame,  many  persons  had  seen  his  machines 
work,  and  had  seen  them  sew  a  good, 
strong  and  handsome  stitch,  and  form 
seams  better  than  hand-sewing.  Of  these, 
no  less  than  six  directly  testified  to  this 
fact  in  a  suit  afterward  brought,  and 
established  the  fact  beyond  question  that 


Walter  Hunt  invented  the  first  sewing- 
machine,  and  that  it  contained  the  curved, 
eye-pointed  needle  at  the  end  of  a  vibrat 
ing  arm  with  a  shuttle.  The  case  itself 
was  decided  upon  another  point.  These 
affidavits  are  still  in  existence.  But  this 
was  not  all.  Fifteen  years  after  he  had 
sold  his  machines  to  Arrowsmith,  who  lost 
a  fortune  and  a  name  in  not  devoting  him 
self  to  their  reproduction,  Walter  Hunt 
from  memory  gave  a  sworn  written  de 
scription  of  his  first  machine  in  every  part, 
and,  to  clinch  the  matter,  afterward  con 
structed  a  machine  from  that  description, 
which  was  the  counterpart  of  the  machine 
of  1834,  and  worked  perfect!}'.  Finally, 
one  of  the  original  machines  sold  to  Arrow- 
smith  in  1834,  was  and  is,  still  preserved, 
though  in  a  dilapidated  condition.  Walter 
Hunt  then  undertook  to  make  a  new 
sewing-machine,  which  should  be  an  oper 
ative  instrument,  and  should  contain 
all  the  parts  which  were  preserved  of 
the  old  machine,  with  such  others  as  were 
necessary  to  present  the  machine  in  the 
same  shape  that  the  original  one  pos 
sessed.  He  did  this  successfully,  and 
the  restored  machine,  still  operative  and 
ready  to  sew  good,  strong  seams,  is  yet  in 
existence. 

Without  drawing  further,  however,  from 
this  curiously  interesting  chapter  in  the 
history  of  the  machine,  involving  a  ques 
tion  of  the  deepest  interest  to  inventors, 
it  is  time  to  describe  the  instrument — its 
parts  and  peculiar  features,  and  modus 
operandi, —  invented  \>y  Mr.  Howe,  and 
which  transformed  him  from  an  obscure 
and  struggling  mechanic  to  one  of  the 
foremost  manufacturers  and  millionaires 
in  America  Seating  ourselves  therefore 
before  this  wonderful  elaboration  of  artis 
tic  genius  and  skill,  as  it  has  come  fresh 
from  the  hands  of  the  toilsome  but  at  last 
successful  inventor,  and  witnessing  its 
weird  and  agile  movement  while  its  enthu 
siastic  proprietor  essays  to  sew  a  seam,  we 
find  that  two  threads  are  employed,  one  of 
which  is  carried  through  the  cloth  by 
means  of  a  curved  needle,  the  pointed  end 
of  which  passes  through  the  cloth;  the 


468 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1770-1876. 


THE  OLD  AND  NEW:  SEWING  BY  HAND  AND  MACHINE. 


noodle  used  has  the  eye  that  is  to  receive 
the  thread  within  a  small  distance,  say  an 
eighth  of  an  inch,  of  its  inner  or  pointed 
end,  the  other  or  outer  end  of  the  needle 
being  held  by  an  arm  that  vibrates  on  a 
pivot  or  joint  pin,  the  curvature  of  the 
needle  being  such  as  to  correspond  with 
the  length  of  the  arm  as  its  radius. 

When  the  thread  is  carried  through  the 
cloth,  which  may  be  done  to  the  distance 
of  about  three-fourths  of  an  inch,  the  thread 
will  be  stretched  above  the  curved  needle, 
something  in  the  manner  of  a  bowstring, 
leaving  a  small  open  space  between  the 
two.  A  small  shuttle,  carrying  a  bobbin 
filled  with  silk  or  thread,  is  then  made  to 
pass  entirely  through  this  open  space, 
between  the  needle  and  the  thread  which 
it  carries ;  and  when  the  shuttle  is  re 
turned,  which  is  done  by  means  of  a  picker 
staff  or  shuttle-driver,  the  thread  which 
was  carried  in  by  the  needle  is  surrounded 
by  that  received  from  the  shuttle  ;  as  the 
needle  is  drawn  out,  it  forces  that  which 
was  received  from  the  shuttle  into  the 
body  of  the  cloth  ;  and  as  this  operation 
is  repeated,  a  seam  is  formed  which  has  on 


each  side  of  the  cloth  the  same  appearance 
as  that  given  by  stitching,  with  this  pecu 
liarity,  that  the  thread  sewn  on  one  side 
of  the  cloth  is  exclusively  that  which  was 
given  out  by  the  needle,  and  the  thread 
seen  on  the  other  side  is  exclusively  that 
which  was  given  out  by  the  shuttle. 

Thus,  according  to  this  arrangement,  a 
stitch  is  made  at  every  back  and  forth 
movement  of  the  shuttle.  The  two  thick 
nesses  of  cloth  that  are  to  be  sewed,  are 
held  upon  pointed  wires,  which  project  out 
from  a  metallic  plate,  like  the  teeth  of  a 
comb,  but  at  a  considerable  distance  from 
each  other, — say  three-fourths  of  an  inch, 
more  or  less, — these  pointed  wires  sustain 
ing  the  cloth,  and  answering  the  purpose  of 
ordinary  basting.  The  metallic  plate  from 
which  these  wires  project  has  numerous 
holes  through  it,  which  answer  the  purpose 
of  rack  teeth  in  enabling  the  plate  to  move 
forward,  by  means  of  a  pinion,  as  the 
stitches  are  taken.  The  distance  to  which 
the  said  plate  is  moved,  and,  consequently, 
the  length  of  the  stitches,  may  be  regu 
lated  at  pleasure. 

One    of    the    most    formidable    of    Mr. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


469 


Howe's  competitors,  as  a  successful  in 
ventor  and  manufacturer,  was  Mr.  I.  M. 
Singer.  His  biographer  speaks  of  him  as 
a  mechanic  of  some  ingenuity  but  of  small 
means,  who,  taking  up  with  a  casual  sug 
gestion  made  to  him  by  a  comrade,  that  a 
sewing-machine  capable  of  doing  a  greater 
variety  of  work  would  be  a  profitable 
thing,  ceased  all  other  labor,  and,  borrow 
ing  forty  or  fifty  dollars  of  his  friend  Mr. 
Zieber,  applied  himself  unremittingly  to 
the  accomplishment  of  his  task.  He 
worked,  as  he  states,  day  and  night,  sleep 
ing  but  three  or  four  hours  out  of  the 
twenty-four,  and  eating  generally  but 
once  a  day,  knowing  that  he  must  get  a 
machine  made  for  forty  dollars,  or  not  get 
it  at  all.  The  machine  was  completed  the 
night  of  the  eleventh  day  from  the  day  it 
was  commenced.  About  nine  o'clock  that 
evening  the  parts  of  the  machine  were 
finally  put  together,  and  a  trial  commenced 
with  it.  The  first  attempt  to  sew  was 
unsuccessful,  and  the  workmen,  who  were 
tired  out  with  almost  unremitting  work, 
left  him  one  by  one,  intimating  that  the 
thing  was  a  failure.  Singer  continued, 
however,  trying  the  machine,  with  Zieber 
to  hold  the  lamp  for  him  ;  but,  in  the  ner 
vous  condition  to  which  he  had  become 
reduced  by  incessant  toil  and  anxiety,  was 
unsuccessful  in  getting  the  machine  to 
sew  tight  stitches.  About  midnight, 
Singer  started  for  the  hotel  where  he  then 
boarded,  accompanied  by  Zieber.  Upon 
the  way,  they  sat  down  on  a  pile  of  boards, 
and  Zieber  asked  Singer  if  he  had  noticed 
that  the  loose  loops  of  thread  on  the  upper 
side  of  the  cloth  came  from  the  needle. 
It  then  flashed  upon  Singer's  mind  that 
lie  had  forgotten  to  adjust  the  tension  upon 
the  needle  thread  !  They  both  started  for 
the  shop  again.  Singer  adjusted  the  ten 
sion,  tried  the  machine,  and  sewed  five 
stitches  perfectly,  when  the  thread  broke. 
The  perfection  of  those  stitches,  however, 
satisfied  him  that  the  machine  was  a 
success,  and  he  therefore  stopped  work, 
went  to  the  hotel,  and  had  a  sound  sleep. 
By  three  o'clock  the  next  day,  he  had  the 
machine  finished,  and  started  with  it  to 


New  York,  taking  immediate  steps  to 
secure  a  patent.  It  brought  him,  in  a  feiv 
years,  princely  wealth.  The  peculiarity 
of  this  machine  is  the  chain  stitch  or 
single  thread  device,  but  with  the  employ 
ment  of  an  eye-pointed  needle,  and  other 
appliances,  so  as  to  make  it  admirably 
adapted  for  the  general  purposes  of  sewing. 
On  a  similar  principle  are  the  Ladd  and 
Webster,  and  Finkle  and  Lyon,  machines. 

Other  improvements  or  modifications  of 
the  machine  have  been  patented  by  Messrs. 
Grover  &  Baker,  Blodgett,  Lerow,  Wilson, 
Morey,  Johnson,  Chapin,  Gibbs,  Leavitt, 
Watson,  Clark,  Weed,  Arnold,  McKay, 
Langdon,  and  others,  but  which  can  only 
be  alluded  to  here.  The  principle  of  tire 
double -thread  self -regulating  machine 
brought  forward  by  Mr  Martin,  stopping 
whenever  the  thread  breaks  or  a  loop  is 
missed,  is,  claimed  by  several  parties.  A 
number  of  the  machines  patented  after 
Howe's,  use  needles  of  a  different  kind  from 
his,  but  produce  the  same  stitch ;  most  of 
these  instruments  are  equally  correct  in 
respect  to  mechanical  principles,  but  differ 
widely  in  certain  particulars,  one  being 
vertical  and  the  other  horizontal,  one  car 
rying  its  own  cloth  and  another  requiring 
that  it  should  be  carried  by  hand;  with 
other  differences. 

But  one  of  the  most  ingenious  and  orig 
inal  devices  in  this  line  remains  to  be 
mentioned,  namely,  a  combination  of  the 
sewing-machine  and  the  melodeon,  by 
Wheeler  and  Wilson,  and  by  them  exhib 
ited,  on  its  completion,  to  an  admiring 
public.  The  apparatus  had  the  appear 
ance,  externally,  of  a  small  parlor  side 
board  or  other  similar  piece  of  furniture. 
On  lifting  the  front,  there  was  seen  a 
handsome  set  of  piano  keys.  On  closing 
it,  and  turning  back  a  hoop  on  the  top, 
there  opened  to  the  view  a  complete 
sewing-machine,  conveniently  arranged. 
Concealed  below,  within  side  doors,  were 
two  pedals,  one  for  the  music,  the  other 
for  the  sewing-machine.  Thus,  by  the 
use  of  one  of  these  ingenious  contrivances, 
when  the  lady  operating  the  machine 
became  tired  of  playing  at  sewing,  she 


470 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


could  change  her  foot  to  the  other  pedal, 
open  the  nu-lodeon  part,  and  discourse 
music!  The  '  rotating  hook '  and  feeding 
apparatus  of  the  Wilson  machine  consti 
tute  an  admirable  feature  ;  and  the  same 
may  be  said  of  the  Grover  £  Baker  or 
'double  loop'  stitch. 

Though  at  first  looked  upon  as  of  doubt 
ful  utility,  the  value  of  the  sewing-machine 
was  in  a  short  time  abundantly  demon 
strated.  Curiosity  and  doubt  were  suc 
ceeded  by  admiration,  and  soon  the  demand 
became  extensive  both  at  home  and  abroad, 
until,  at  the  present  time,  the  annual  pro 
duction  of  machines  is  thought  to  approx 
imate  to  half  a  million.  Active  minds 
were  also  not  slow  to  devise  what  they 
deemed  to  be  improvements  in  the  ma 
chine  and  its  appurtenances ;  and  to  this 
end,  the  number  of  patent-claims  filed  up 
to  the  present  time  does  not  vary  much 
from  one  thousand,  though  only  an 
extremely  small  proportion  of  these  are  of 
any  really  practical  importance. 

Such  a  revolution  in  the  processes  and 
results  of  national  industry  as  that  effected 
by  this  machine  could  have  entered  into 
no  man's  mind — not  even  the  mind  of  one 
given  to  the  wildest  romancing.  Thus,  in 
the  brief  period  of  some  dozen  years 
merely,  from  the  time  of  the  introduction 
of  the  machine  to  the  public,  the  value 
and  practical  results  of  the  invention  may 
be  understood  from  the  following  facts, 
which  appeared  in  evidence  in  the  contest 
before  the  commissioner  of  patents,  for  the 
extension  of  Howe's  patent — namely  : 

At  that  time,  the  amount  of  the  boot  and 
shoe  business  of  Massachusetts  was  fifty- 
five  million  dollars  annually,  and  of  this 
amount,  the  ladies'  and  misses'  gaiter- 
boots  and  shoes  involved  one-half.  About 
one-eleventh  of  the  sum  total  above  named 
was  paid  for  sewing  labor,  from  this 
proportion  it  appeared  that  the  annual 
expenditure  for  sewing  upon  ladies'  and 
misses'  gaiter-boots  and  shoes  was  two  and 
a  half  million  dollars,  and  that  it  would 
have  cost  four  times  as  much  if  done  by 
hand, — so  that  the  saving  in  a  single  year, 
in  one  state,  by  this  invention,  in  the  man 


ufacture  of  one  special  article  only,  was 
nearly  eight  million  dollars. 

Similarly  conclusive  evidence  was  given 
in  regard  to  the  making  of  shirts,  by  an 
extensive  manufacturer  in  Connecticut, 
who  stated  that  his  factory  turned  out 
about  eight  hundred  dozen  per  \veek  ;  that 
he  used  four  hundred  sewing-machines, 
and  that  one  machine,  with  an  attendant, 
would  do  the  work  of  five  hand-sewers  at 
least,  and  do  it  better.  He  paid,  at  least, 
four  dollars  per  week  ;  but,  reckoning  it 
at  three  dollars, — the  old  price  for  sewing 
before  machines  were  introduced,  —  it 
showed  a  saving,  in  this  single  manufac 
tory,  of  two  hundred  and  forty  thousand 
dollars.  Allowing,  then,  the  males  of  the 
United  States,  at  that  time,  to  wear  out 
two  shirts  a  year  apiece,  a  proportional 
saving  would  amount  to  the  large  sum  of 
between  eleven  and  twelve  million  dollars 
annually,  in  making  the  single  article  of 
shirts. 

Another  witness,  representing  the  firm 
of  Brooks  Brothers,  of  New  York  city, 
manufacturers  of  clothing,  stated  that  that 
house  alone  did  a  business,  at  the  period 
named,  of  over  a  million  dollars  annually, 
using  twenty  machines  in  the  store, 
besides  patronizing  those  that  others  used, 
and  doing  about  three-fourths  of  all  their 
sewing  by  machines,  and  paying  annually 
for  sewing  labor  about  two  hundred  thou 
sand  dollars;  seventy-live  thousand  dollars 
of  this  was  saved  by  machines, — that  is, 
the  machines  saved  seventy-five  thousand 
dollars  on  every  two  hundred  thousand 
paid  for  sewing  labor.  But  the  great 
manufactures  of  this  house  did  not  consti 
tute,  at  most,  but  one-hundredth  part  of 
the  machine-made  clothing  produced  in 
that  city ;  which  fact,  putting  the  propor 
tion  at  one-hundredth  part,  made  the  busi 
ness  of  manufacturing  machine  clothing  in 
the  city  of  New  York  one  hundred  million 
dollars  per  annum  ;  and  thus,  at  the  rate 
paid  by  that  house  for  sewing,  it  brought 
the  cost  of  sewing  in  that  branch  of  the 
business  in  that  city,  —  even  with  the 
assistance  of  the  sewing-machines, — up  to 
twenty  million  dollars.  Applying  the 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


471 


same  ratio  to  the  estimated  amount  of  this 
branch  of  business  in  the  United  States, 
the  total  would  reach  the  sum  of  sevent}^- 
five  million  dollars.  All  this,  be  it  remem 


bered,  was  in  the  comparative  infancy  of 
the  machine.  Its  pecuniary  importance, 
as  a  labor  agent,  is  now  estimated  to  reach 
$500,000,000  annually. 


LIT. 
SPIRITUAL  KNOCKINGS  AND  TABLE-TIPPINGS.— 1847. 


Familiar  Intercourse  Claimed  to  be  Opened  between  Human  and  Disembodied  Beings — Alleged  Reve 
lations  from  the  Unseen  World. — Singular  and  Humble  Origin,  in  a  Secluded  N.  Y.  Village,  of  this 
Great  Modern  Wonder. — Its  Development  among  All  Nations  in  All  Lands. — Astonishing  and 
Inexplicable  Character  of  the  Manifestations. — First  Mappings  in  Ilydesville,  N.  Y — Time,  Manner, 
Circumstances. — A  Murdered  Man's  Spirit  — How  the  Mystery  was  Solved. — Rappings,  the  Spirit 
Language. — Its  Interpretation  Discovered. — Two  Young  Girls  the  "  Mediums." — Their  Harassed 
Experience. — Public  Efforts  to  Sift  the  Matter. — No  Clue  to  any  Deception — The  Family  go  to 
Rochester. — Knoukings  Accompany  Them. — New  Forms  of  "Manifestations." — Many  Mediums 
Spring  Up  — Things  Strange  and  Startling  — Universal  Wonder  Excited. — Theories  of  Explanation. 
— Investigations  and  Reports  — Views  of  Agassiz,  Herschel,  Etc. — Press  and  Pulpit  Discussions. — 
Different  Opinions  as  to  the  Tendency  of  the  Phenomena — Thirty  Years'  History. 


"I  cannot  diapose  of  another  man's  facts,  nor  allow  him  to  dispose  of  mine."— EMERSOW. 


• 


OCHESTER,  N.  Y.,  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  and  thriving  of  Ameri 
can  inland  cities,  lias   long  borne 
the   celebrity   which    attaches   to 
what  are   now  known,  the  world 
over,    as     "  spiritual     manifesta- 
fj^y^,,...    ,          tions,"— knot-kings,  rappings,  ta- 
-.  ble-movings,    spirit     communica- 

HOUSE  IX  WHICH  SPIRITUAL  RAPPIXGS  ORIGINATED.  tioilS,      aild       till!       like.  But        ill 

reality,  to  the  secluded  and  unambitious  village  of  Hydesville,  in  the  town  of 
Arcadia,  Wayne  county,  N.  Y.,  belongs  the  pre-eminent  distinction  of  being  the  place 
where  originated,  in  a  manner  most  casual,  and  seemingly  insignificant  for  the  time, 
in  respect  to  duration  or  results,  this  most  mysterious,  wonderful,  and  wide-spread 
physico-psychological  phenomenon  since  the  world  began.  It  was  from  Hydesville  that 
these  manifestations  were  introduced — so  to  speak — in  the  city  first  named,  and  where, 
by  the  great  notoriety  which  soon  characterized  them,  they  came  to  be  known, 
universally,  as  the  "Rochester  Knockings." 

The  starting  point  of  all,  in  the  history  of  this  astonishing  movement— one  which 
has  extended  to  the  remotest  bounds  of  the  known  world,  which  has  challenged  the 
scrutiny  and  excited  the  wonder  of  monarchs,  savants,  popes,  philosophers,  divines, 
councils  and  synods,— is  the  humble  house  in  Hydesville,  occupied,  in  1847,  by  Mr. 
Michael  Weekman,  who,  at  different  times  that  year,  heard  rappings  upon  his  door, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


473 


but  on  every  occasion  failed  to  discover 
any  person  present,  or  any  producing 
source  or  cause,  notwithstanding  the 
most  vigilant  watch  was  kept  up  and  the 
most  industrious  searcli  instituted,  by  the 
family  and  neighbors.  Under  these 
strange  and  uncomfortable  circumstances, 
Mr.  Weekman  left  the  premises,  which, 
however,  were  soon  tenanted  by  the  family 
of  Mr.  John  I).  Fox.  But,  so  far  from 
a  change  of  occupants  being  attended  by 
a  cessation  of  the  rappings,  the  very 
reverse  was  the  fact.  From  March,  1848, 
the  house  was  disturbed,  from  night  to 
night,  by  the  same  constantly  recurring 
sounds — rappings,  tappings,  knocks,  and 
even  shuffling  of  furniture, — and  which 
could  not  be  accounted  for  on  the  hypothe 
sis  of  natural  agency. 

Nor  were  these  knockings  now  con 
fined  to  the  door  of  the  house,  but  per 
vaded  every  part,  depriving  the  inmates 
of  their  regular  sleep.  In  this  state  of 
wakefulness,  and  the  source  of  the  noises 
appearing  to  be  in  close  proximity  to  the 
bed  occupied  by  two  of  the  Fox  girls,  it  is 
related  that  one  of  them,  some  ten  or 
eleven  years  of  age,  thought  she  would 
just  try  the  experiment,  sportively,  of  re 
sponding  to  the  raps  by  as  close  and 
accurate  a  repetition  of  them  as  was  pos 
sible  with  her  fingers.  Her  efforts  were 
so  far  successful  as  to  elicit  reciprocal 
sounds  from  the  invisible  agency.  In  a 
little  while,  the  parties  were  enabled  to 
open  a  distinct  communication,  by  means 
of  the  following  simple  method,  and  with 
the  accompanying  results,  as  narrated  by 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Fishbough,  an  early  investi 
gator  of  the  phenomena.  After  mutual 
responses  had  been  opened,  one  of  the 
girls  said  : 

"  Now  do  as  I  do  ;  count  1,  2,  3,  4,  5, 
6,"  at  the  same  time  striking  her  hands 
together,  the  girl  acting  more  in  sport, 
than  in  expectation  of  what  really  fol 
lowed.  The  same  number  of  raps  re 
sponded,  and  at  similar  intervals.  The 
mother  of  the  girls  then  said:  "Count 
ten ;  "  and  ten  distinct  raps  were  heard ; 
"Count  fifteen,"  and  that  number  of 


sounds  followed.  She  then  said,  "  Tell 
us  the  age  of  Cathy  (the  youngest  daugh 
ter)  by  rapping  one  for  each  year,"  and 
the  number  of  years  was  rapped  correctly. 
Then,  in  like  manner,  the  age  of  each 
of  the  other  children  was  by  request  in 
dicated  by  this  invisible  agent.  Startled 
and  somewhat  alarmed  by  these  manifes 
tations  of  intelligence,  Mrs.  Fox  asked  if 
it  was  a  human  being  who  was  making 
that  noise,  and  if  it  was,  to  manifest  the 
fact  by  making  the  same  noise.  There 
was  no  sound.  She  then  said,  "  If  you 
are  a  spirit,  make  tico  distinct  sounds." 
Two  raps  were  accordingly  heard.  The 
members  of  the  family  had  by  this  time 
all  left  their  beds,  and  the  house  was  again 
thoroughly  searched,  as  it  had  been  be 
fore,  but  without  discovering  anything 
that  could  explain  the  mystery  ;  and  after 
a  few  more  questions,  and  responses  by 
raps,  the  neighbors  were  called  in  to 
assist  in  further  efforts  to  trace  the  phe 
nomenon  to  its  cause  ;  but  these  persons 
were  no  more  successful  than  the  family 
had  been,  and  they  confessed  themselves 
thoroughly  confounded.  For  several  sub 
sequent  days  the  village  was  in  a  turmoil 
of  excitement,  and  multitudes  visited  the 
house,  heard  the  raps,  and  interrogated 
the  apparent  intelligence  which  controlled 
them,  but  without  obtaining  any  clue  to 
the  discovery  of  the  agent,  further  than 
its  own  persistent  declaration  that  it  was 
a  spirit.  About  three  weeks  after  these 
occurrences,  David,  a  son  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Fox,  went  alone  into  the  cellar  where 
the  raps  were  then  being  heard,  and  said, 
"  If  you  are  the  spirit  of  a  human  being, 
who  once  lived  on  the  earth,  can  you  rap 
the  letters  that  will  spell  your  name  ? 
and  if  so,  rap  now  three  times."  Three 
raps  were  promptly  given,  and  David  pro 
ceeded  to  call  the  alphabet,  writing  down 
the  letters  as  they  were  indicated,  and  the 
result  was  the  name  '  Charles  B.  Rosma,' 
a  name  quite  unknown  to  the  family,  and 
which  they  were  afterward  unable  to 
trace.  The  statement  was  in  like  manner 
obtained  from  the  invisible  intelligence, 
that  he  ivas  the  spirit  of  a  peddle)'  who  had 


474 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1876. 


been  murdered  in  that  house  some  years 
previous.  It  is  said  that,  at  first,  the  raps 
occurred  in  the  house  even  when  all  the 
members  of  the  family  were  absent,  but 
subsequently  they  occurred  only  in  the 
presence  of  the  two  younger  daughters, 
Catharine  and  Margaretta;  and,  on  the 
family  removing,  soon  after,  to  the  neigh 
boring  city  of  Rochester,  the  manifesta 
tions  still  accompanied  them  ;  the  family 
took  up  their  abode  with  a  married  sis 
ter,  Mrs.  Fish,  who  subsequently  became 
celebrated  as  a  medium,  through  whom 
the  manifestations  were  exhibited. 

The  original  method  of  communication 
— the  spirit  language — it  would  appear, 
consisted  in  conveying  an  affirmative  by  a 


THE   MISSES  FOX. 


single  rap  (though  perhaps  emphasized 
by  more),  and  a  negative  was  indicated  by 
silence.  Five  raps  demanded  the  alpha 
bet,  and  this  could  be  called  over  by  the 
living  voice,  or  else  in  a  printed  form  laid 
upon  a  table,  and  the  finger  or  a  pencil 
slowly  passed  along  it — when,  on  arriving 
at  the  required  letter,  a  rap  was  heard  ; 
the  querist  then  recommenced,  until  words 
and  sentences  were  spelled  out — upon  the 
accuracy  or  intelligence  displayed  in 
which,  depended,  in  a  great  degree,  the 
amount  of  faith  popularly  accorded  to  the 
manifestations.  It  was  with  this  key,  the 
conception  of  which  as  adapted  to  the 
mastery  of  the  strange  phenomenon  is 
utterly  incomprehensible,  that  the  above 


information  was  evoked  from  the  mur 
dered  peddler,  who  also  further  stated  that 
the  number  of  the  years  of  his  fleshly  pil 
grimage  had  been  thirty-one  ;  that  he  had 
been  murdered  in  that  house,  and  buried 
in  the  cellar ;  and  that  the  murderer  was 
alive,  as  were  also  the  children  of  Rosma, 
his  victim. 

Such  revelations  as  these,  which,  as 
soon  as  received  by  the  interlocutors,  were 
freely  given  to  the  world,  excited  pro 
digious  interest,  far  and  near.  The  cel 
lar  was  dug  to  a  great  depth,  to  discover, 
if  possible,  some  evidence  of  murder  hav 
ing  been  committed ;  the  premises  and 
neighborhood  examined  with  great  thor 
oughness  ;  and  inquiries  made  in  all 
directions.  But  all  these  efforts 
failed  to  elicit  any  disclosure  of 
fact  or  circumstance,  bearing  in  the 
slightest  degree  upon  such  a  trans 
action. 

At  length,  on  the  fourteenth  of 
November,  1849,  in  accordance,  as 
was  said,  with  directions  from  'the 
spirits,'  a  public  lecture  on  the 
origin  and  character  of  the  mani 
festations  was  given  in  Corinthian 
Hall,  Rochester,  at  which  the  '  me 
diums  '  were  present.  Manifesta 
tions  were  had,  and  a  committee 
wras  chosen  from  the  audience  to 
make  thorough  examination  into 
their  nature  and  origin,  and  report 
at  an  adjourned  meeting  the  next  even 
ing. 

Intense  interest  was  felt  in  regard  to 
the  result  of  this  committee's  proceedings, 
and  in  due  time  their  report  was  made  to  a 
crowded  and  breathless  assembly.  In  this 
report,  the  committee  stated  that  they 
had  made  such  investigations  as  seemed 
necessary  and  practicable  ;  that  the  me 
diums  had  apparently  afforded  every 
facility  for  the  most  minute  and  ample 
examination ;  but  that  they — the  com 
mittee — had  utterly  failed  to  discover  in 
what  manner  the  mysterious  sounds  or 
raps  were  produced,  or  what  was  their 
cause  or  origin,  there  being  no  visible 
agency  whatever  to  which,  by  any  process 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


475 


of  ordinary  reasoning,  the  phenomena 
could  be  attributed. 

Other  committees  of  gentlemen  arrived 
at  the  same  conclusion  ;  whereupon  a  com 
mittee  of  ladies  was  appointed,  who  took 
the  3Toung  lady  mediums  into  a  private 
room  of  a  hotel  to  which  they  were 
strangers,  and  there  disrobed  and  searched 
them.  The  mediums  were  then  made  to 
stand  on  pillows,  with  handkerchiefs  tied 
tightly  around  their  ankles.  The  raps 
were  repeated,  and  intelligent  answers  to 
unpremeditated  questions  were  rapped  in 
the  usual  way. 

But  the  manifestations  —  'spiritual' 
manifestations,  as  they  were  now,  and 
have  since  continued  to  be,  called — were 
not  long  confined  to  the  Fox  family.  In 
deed,  so  rapid  and  wide-spread  was  the 
development  of  the  phenomena,  that,  in 


the  short  space  of  two  or  three  years,  it 
was  calculated  that  the  number  of  recog 
nized  "media"  practicing  in  various  parts 
of  the  United  States,  was  not  less  than 
thirty  thousand. 

Various  theories  continued  to  be  pro 
pounded  as  from  the  first,  though  now 
more  learned  and  scientific,  in  explanation 
of  the  moving  of  tables  and  other  pon 
derable  substances  and  objects,  as  well  as 
the  knockings.  Concerning  the  latter,  it 
has  been  argued  that,  in  spiritualism,  it  is 
the  mind  of  the  person  charging  the 
medium  who  exhibits  all  the  intelligence — 
or  it  maybe  some  one  en  rapport  after  the 
medium  has  been  charged  to  that  degree 
that  the  electricity  overflows  in  raps,  and 


these  raps  are  of  the  same  character  as 
detonations  of  electricity  when  a  positive 
and  negative  cloud  meet  in  mid  air  and 
produce  thunder. 

Another  theory  of  the  cause  of  the  rap- 
pings  is  that  of  a  too  great  redundancy  of 
electricity  congregated  upon  the  involun 
tary  nerves,  through  passivity  of  mind, 
and  thus  imparting  to  them  extraordinary 
force. 

The  theory  presented  with  such  philo 
sophical  ability  by  Professor  Mahan,  is, 
that  there  is  in  nature  a  power,  termed, 
scientifically,  the  odylic  or  mesmeric  force, 
which  is  identical  with  the  cause  of  all  the 
mesmeric  and  clairvoyant  phenomena,  on 
the  one  hand,  and  with  the  immediate 
cause  of  these  manifestations,  on  the  other ; 
that  by  reference  to  the  properties  and 
laws  of  this  force  as  developed  in  the  spirit 
circles,  and  to  its  relations  to  the  minds 
constituting  the  same,  every  kind  of  spirit 
phenomena  can  be  most  fully  accounted 
for,  without  the  supposition  of  the  presence 
or  agency  of  disembodied  spirits  ;  and  that 
the  entire  real  facts  of  spiritualism  demand 
the  supposition  that  this  force,  in  the  pro 
duction  of  these  communications,  is  con 
trolled  exclusively,  for  the  most  part 
unconsciously,  by  the  minds  in  the  circles, 
and  not  by  disembodied  spirits  out  of  the 
same. 

As  indicating  most  clearly,  according  to 
this  theory,  the  presence  and  action  of  an 
invisible  but  purely  physical  cause  —  a 
cause  connected  with  the  organism  of  par 
ticular  individuals,  its  advocates  do  not 
hesitate  to  cite  all  the  various  wonders  of 
spiritual  manifestation,  whether  mental  or 
material,  not  excepting  the  astonishing 
occurrences  which  transpired  in  Stamford, 
Conn.,  in  1850,  and  which  made  the  name 
of  the  occupant  of  the  house,  Rev.  Dr. 
Phelps,  for  a  long  time  so  famous  through 
out  the  land.  In  this  case,  the  phenomena 
consisted  in  the  moving  of  articles  of  fur 
niture  in  a  manner  not  only  unaccounta 
ble,  but  baffling  all  description. 

By  Professor  Agassiz,  the  knockings 
and  rappings  were,  from  the  very  first, 
pronounced  a  delusion  ;  an  opinion  shared, 


476 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 177G-1S76. 


perhaps,  by  the  whole  body  of  learned 
men  in  the  country.  Professor  Faraday, 
of  England,  claimed  to  demonstrate  that  it 
is  by  physical  power,  and  not  by  any  mag 
netic  fluid,  that  tables  move  on  being 
pressed  by  the  fingers.  Herschel  sug 
gested  that  there  might  be  a  fluid  which 
served  to  convey  the  orders  of  the  brain  to 
the  muscles. 

Suftice  it  to  add,  that,  as  no  authority 
in  respect  to  these  phenomena  is  held  in 
higher  repute  among  the  disciples  of  the 
new  system,  than  that  of  Mr.  Andrew 
Jackson  Davis,  the  Poughkeepsie  seer,  his 
opinion  that  the  producing  agencies,  in  the 
moving  of  tables  and  other  inorganic  sub 
stances  by  spirits,  are  terrestrial  magnet 
ism  and  electricity,  may  be  cited  as  rep 
resenting  the  views  of  a  large  portion, 
probably,  of  the  spiritualists  in  this 
country. 

The  variety  of  phenomena  known  by  the 
general  term  of  'spiritual  manifestations/ 
is  very  numerous.  Some  of  the  principal, 
as  enumerated  by  Mr.  Ballon  under  five 
several  distinctions,  and  which  is  perhaps 
as  fair  and  complete  an  exposition  as  the 
literature  of  spiritualism  affords,  are  the 
following : — 

First — making  peculiar  noises,  indica 
tive  of  more  or  less  intelligence,  such  as 
knockings,  rappings,  jarrings,  creakings, 
tickings,  imitation  of  many  sounds  known 
in  the  different  vicissitudes  of  human  life, 
musical  intonations,  and,  in  rare  instances, 
articulate  speech.  Some  of  these  various 
sounds  are  very  loud,  distinct,  and  forcible ; 
others  are  low,  less  distinct,  and  more 
gentle,  but  all  audible  realities. 

Second — the  moving  of  material  sub 
stances,  with  like  indications  of  intelli 
gence,  such  as  tables,  sofas,  light-stands, 
chairs,  and  various  other  articles,  shaking, 
tipping,  sliding,  raising  them  clear  of  the 
floor,  placing  them  in  new  positions,  (all 
this  sometimes  in  spite  of  athletic  and 
heavy  men  doing  their  utmost  to  hold 
them  down ;)  taking  up  the  passive  body  of 
a  person,  and  carrying  it  from  one  position 
to  another  across  the  room,  through  mid 
air;  opening  and  shutting  doors;  thrum 


ming  musical  instruments;  undoing  well- 
clasped  pocket-books,  taking  out  their 
contents,  and  then,  by  request,  replacing 
them  again  ;  writing  with  pens,  pencils, 
and  other  substances,  both  liquid  and  solid 
— sometimes  on  paper,  sometimes  on  com 
mon  slates,  and  sometimes  on  the  ceilings 
of  a  room,  etc. 

Third — causing  catalepsy,  trance,  clair 
voyance,  and  various  involuntary  muscu 
lar,  nervous,  and  mental  activity  in  medi 
ums,  independent  of  any  will  or  conscious 
psychological  influence  by  men  in  the  flesh, 
and  then  through  such  mediums,  speak 
ing,  writing,  preaching,  lecturing,  philoso 
phizing,  prophesying,  etc. 

Fourth  —  presenting  apparitions:  in 
some  instances,  of  a  spirit  hand  and  arm  ; 
in  others,  of  the  whole  human  form ;  and 
in  others,  of  several  deceased  persons  con 
versing  together  ;  causing  distinct  touches 
to  be  felt  by  the  mortal  living,  grasping 
and  shaking  their  hands,  and  giving  man}' 
other  sensible  demonstrations  of  their 
existence. 

Fifth — through  these  various  manifes 
tations  communicating  to  men  in  the  flesh 
numberless  affectionate  and  intelligent 
assurances  of  an  immortal  existence,  mes 
sages  of  consolation,  and  annunciations  of 
distant  events  unknown  at  the  time,  but 
subsequently  corroborated ;  predictions  of 
forthcoming  occurrences  subsequently  ver 
ified,  forewarnings  against  impending 
danger,  medicinal  prescriptions  of  great 
efficacy,  wholesome  reproofs,  admonitions, 
and  counsels,  expositions  of  spiritual,  theo 
logical,  religious,  moral,  and  philosophical 
truths  appertaining  to  the  present  and 
future  states,  and  important  to  human  wel 
fare  in  every  sphere  of  existence,  some 
times  comprised  in  a  single  sentence,  and 
sometimes  in  an  ample  book. 

It  is  taught  by  writers  on  spiritualism, 
that  it  is  a  grand  religious  reformation, 
designed  and  destined  to  correct  theologi 
cal  errors,  to  remove  sectarian  barriers, 
and  to  excite  more  warmly  the  religious 
element  among  mankind.  This  claim  is 
denied  by  those  opposed  to  the  movement, 
who  charge  it  as  aiming,  or  tending,  to  do 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


477 


away  with  the  Bible,  to  overthrow  Chris- 
tianitj',  and  destroy  the  Church  and  its 
institutions,  —  indeed,  to  break  up  the 
whole  frame-work  of  society  as  at  present 
constituted.  The  discussion  has  engaged, 
in  the  press  and  pulpit,  and  on  either  side, 
the  profoundest  adepts  in  theology,  science, 
and  philosophy  ;  and,  though  none  dispute 
that  fraud  and  imposture  have  played  their 


their  own  thoughts,  without  any  knowl 
edge  at  the  time,  on  his  part,  of  either 
ideas  or  subject ;  the  hand-writing  of  each 
was  unlike  that  of  the  other,  and,  though 
both  were  written  by  Dr.  Dexter's  hand, 
they  were  both  wholly  unlike  his,  and  this 
characterized  the  whole  of  the  volumin 
ous  communications,  according  to  these 
authors'  statement. 


CORA  L.   V.   HATCH. 


A.  J.   DAVIS. 


JUDGE   EDMONDS. 


part,  in  multitudes  of  instances,  in  con 
nection  with  the  matter,  it  is  admitted 
that  the  phenomena,  under  reputable 
auspices,  exhibit  great,  novel,  and  aston 
ishing  facts. 

Since  the  initiation  of  the  movement,  or 
phenomena,  in  1847,  by  the  Misses  Fox, 
the  most  distinguished  mediums  have  been 
A.  J.  Davis,  D.  D.  Home,  Mrs.  Cora  L.  V. 
Hatch,  etc.,  etc. ;  the  most  widely  cele 
brated  authors,  A.  J.  Davis,  Judge  Ed 
monds,  and  George  T.  Dexter,  Adin  Ballon, 
and  some  others.  The  learned  work  bear 
ing  the  joint  authorship  of  Judge  Ed 


monds  and  Dr.  Dexter  is  generally  pro 
nounced  one  of  the  ablest  productions, 
devoted  to  the  philosophy  of  these  modern 
wonders.  A  notable  feature  in  the  con 
tents  of  this  work  are  the  alleged  communi 
cations  received  from  Swedenborg  and  Lord 
Bacon,  written,  in  their  own  hand-writing, 
from  the  spirit  world, — they  using  Dr. 
Dexter's  hand  as  the  instrument  to  convey 


The  different  kinds  of  mediums  are 
classified,  by  Judge  Edmonds,  into  those 
who  disturb  the  equanimity  of  material 
objects,  without  any  intelligence  being 
necessarily  or  usually  communicated 
through  them,  for  the  purpose  of  address 
ing  to  the  human  senses  the  idea  of  a 
physical  communion  with  a  power  out  of 
and  beyond  mere  mortal  agency;  con 
nected  with  this  class,  though  with  the 
addition  of  an  intelligent  communion 
between  the  mortal  and  the  invisible 
power,  are  the  mediums  for  table-tippings ; 
another  class  consists  of  those  who  write, 


their  hands  being  affected  by  a  power 
manifestly  beyond  their  own  control,  and 
not  emanating  from  or  governed  by  their 
own  will ;  a  fourth  species  are  speaking 
mediums,  some  of  whom  speak  when  in 
the  trance  state,  and  some  when  in  their 


478 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


normal  or  natural  condition,  in  which 
cases  the  invisible  intelligence  seems  to 
take  possession  of  the  mind  of  the  medium, 
and  compel  the  utterance  of  its  ideas, 
sometimes  in  defiance  of  the  will  of  the 
mortal  through  whom  it  is  talking ; 
impressible  mediums  are  those  who  re 
ceive  impressions  in  their  minds  to 
which  they  give  utterance,  either  by 
writing  or  speaking,  their  faculties  be 
ing  entirely  under  their  own  control ;  still 
another  class  are  those  who  see,  or  seem 


to  see,  the  objects  presented  to  their  con 
sideration. 

In  all  the  nations  of  Europe,  Asia,  and 
Africa,  the  phenomena  of  spiritualism 
have  become  widely  prevalent ;  and,  only 
ten  years  subsequent  to  the  first  develop 
ment,  its  newspapers  estimated  the  number 
of  its  avowed  adherents  at  one  and  a  half 
million,  with  one  thousand  public  advo 
cates,  forty  thousand  public  and  private 
mediums,  and  a  literature  of  five  hundred 
different  works. 


LV. 

VOYAGE   OF   THE    UNITED    STATES    SHIP   JAMESTOWN, 

WITH  A  CARGO  OF  FOOD  FOR  THE  STARVING  IN 

IRELAND.— 1847. 


Famine,  Pestilence,  Woe  and  Death  Sweep  Frightfully  Over  That  Land. — Appeal  to  the  Sympathy  of 
Nations. — The  Tale  of  Horror  Borne  Across  the  Atlantic. — Spontaneous  Generosity  of  America. — A 
Ship-of-War  Converted  Into  a  Ship  of  Peace,  and  Laden  with  Free  Gifts  for  the  Suffering. — Total 
Failure  of  the  Potato  Crop. — A  Universal  Scourge. — Disease  Added  to  Destitution. — Ghastly  Scenes 
on  every  Side.— Multitudes  Perish  in  the  Streets. — Parliament  Grants  $50,000,000.— The  Message  of 
Humanity. — America's  Read}'  Bounties. — Use  of  the  Jamestown  Granted. — Food  Substituted  for 
Guns. — Interesting  Bill  of  Lading. — Departure  from  Boston. — Enthusiastically  Cheered  — Only  Fif 
teen  Days'  Passage. — Going  up  the  Harbor  of  Cork. — Throngs  of  Famished  Spectators. — Tumultu 
ous  Greetings  on  Arrival. — Public  Welcomes  and  Honors. — A  Tour  of  Inspection. — Indescribable 
Horrors. — Distribution  of  the  Cargo. — The  Mission  a  Great  Success. 


"  And  thou,  mighty  ship,  built  by  man  to  destroy, 
Thou,  the  flr»t  of  thy  race,  bear'*!  an  errand  of  joy." 


WING  to  the  failure  of  the  potato  crop  in  Ireland,  in  the  year  1846,  a  great 
famine  fell  upon  that  unfortunate  land,  and,  during  that  and  the  succeeding 
year,  thousands  perished  with  hunger.     Notwithstanding  the  successive 
grants  of  relief  made  by  parliament,  amounting  in  the  aggregate  to  fifty 
millions  of  dollars,  together  with  the  munificence  of  the  wealthy,  desti 
tution,  famine,  and  disease  pervaded  almost  the  entire  population.     Such, 
indeed,  was  the  fearful  mortality  in  some  of  the  towns?  that  one-third  of 
the  inhabitants  fell   victims,    their   corpses   being   found,    in   frequent 
instances,  lying   in  the  streets,  uncoffined  and   unknown. 
As  illustrating  the  frightful  character  and  circumstances 
distinguishing  this  scourge,   one  of  the  official  visitors  to 
these  scenes  of  woe  states  that  on  entering  one  of  the  famine 
hovels  in   Kennare,  he  found  five  or  six  of  the 
inmates  lying  in  fever,  huddled  together  on  the 
damp  and  cold  ground,  with  scarce  a  wisp  of  straw 
under  them  ;  in  another  cabin,  four  or  five  unfor 
tunate  beings,  just  risen  from  fever,  crouched  over 
a  small  pot  of  sea-weed  boiling  on  the  fire,  that  one 
of  them  had  crawled  to  the  shore  to  collect   for 
their  dinner.     An  equally  ghastly  case  was  that  of 
a  poor  fellow,  whose  mother  lay  beside  him  dead 
two  days;  he  was  burning  with  rage  to  think  she 
should  have  come  to  such  an  end,  as  to  die  of  starv 
ation.     But  a  more  distressing   object  still,    was 
SCENE  OF  MisEiiY  DuiuNo  THE  FAMINE.      that  of  a.  sick  mother,  beside  whom  lay  a  child 


480 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


dead,  for  the  twenty-four  hours  previous  ; 
two  others  lay  close  by,  just  expiring,  and, 
to  add  to  the  horrors  of  the  sight,  a  fam 
ished  cat  got  upon  the  bed,  and  was  only 
prevented  by  timely  intervention  from 
gnawing  the  corpse  of  the  deceased  infant. 
Perhaps  the  spread  and  extent  of  this 
calamity  can  be  best  comprehended  by  the 
manner  in  which  it  affected  the  Cork  dis 
trict.  In  the  year  1840,  under  the  law  for 
the  relief  of  the  poor,  a  work-house  was 
provided  in  Cork,  sufficient  to  meet  the 
wants  of  some  two  thousand  persons,  and, 
until  the  year  1845,  such  accommodation 
was  abundant.  In  1846,  however,  things 
began  to  alter,  when  the  destruction  of  the 
potato  crop  began  to  be  experienced. 
Soon,  the  work-house  filled  to  overflowing. 
Additional  buildings  were  erected — they 
too  were  filled.  Accommodation  was  then 
provided  for  twelve,  and  subsequently  for 
eighteen  hundred  people,  in  the  neighbor 
hood  of  the  work-house.  Every  incli  of 
space  was  occupied,  so  soon  as  it  was  avail 
able  ;  and  yet  the  applicants  for  admission 
crowded  pantingly  at  the  doors.  They 
were  not  repelled  until  more  than  five 
thousand  and  three  hundred  human  beings 
were  crowded  into  a  space  originally  meant 
to  receive  two  thousand.  As  a  necessary 
consequence,  a  pestilence  was  generated, 
which  destroyed  life  to  an  extent  unheard 
of  —  and  still  the  admissions  went  on! 
The  vacancies  created  by  death  or  other 
wise,  were  immediately  filled,  by  eager 
applicants,  who,  in  their  turn,  and  speed 
ily,  fell  beneath  the  stroke  of  death.  And 
this  pestilence,  though  of  course  raging 
fiercest  within  the  work-house,  was  not 
confined  to  its  precincts  and  beneficiaries; 
the  guardians,  chaplains,  and  physicians, 
all  shared  in  the  visitation  of  the  destroyer, 
and  the  attendant  frightful  mortality.  It 
was  a  matter  of  inevitable  necessity,  to 
crowd  the  fever  patients  together  so 
thickly,  that  they  were  forced  to  lie  three 
and  four  in  one  bed ;  and  frequently  it  was 
necessary  to  administer  the  last  consola 
tions  to  the  dying,  in  the  very  bed  in 
which  lay  a  corpse.  When  it  was  thus  in  a 
public  institution  supported  and  regulated 


by  law,  imagination  can  readily  picture  the 
scenes  in  those  dreary  cabins  of  the  poor 
that  cover  the  land. 

But  the  picturings  of  the  imagination 
merely,  may  well  be  spared,  in  view  of  the 
gaunt  array  of  awful  facts  which  make  up 
this  tragedy  of  human  woe.  Having  placed 
the  miseries  of  Cork  in  the  foreground  of 
this  brief  narrative,  some  reference  is  like 
wise  due  to  the  condition  of  those  districts 
which,  being  mountainous  and  largely 
populated,  were  exposed  to  a  peculiar 
intensity  of  privation,  and  of  consequent 
suffering.  Among  these  districts — and  it 
furnishes  simply  a  type  of  all  the  others 
which  might  be  cited,  did  space  permit, — 
was  that  of  Kilworth,  which  comprises 
that  very  extensive  range  of  upland, 
known  as  the  Kilworth  mountains,  and 
the  small  extent  of  low  hind  attached  to  it. 
Out  of  a  total  population  of  nine  thousand 
and  eight  hundred  souls,  there  were  at  one 
time  over  seven  thousand  in  the  greatest 
state  of  misery  and  distress,  and,  of  these, 
five  thousand  had  not,  unless  given  them, 
a  single  meal  with  which  to  satisfy  their 
hunger.  This  arose,  as  in  the  other  dis 
tricts,  from  the  total  failure  of  the  potato, 
upon  which  the  people  solely  relied,  to 
gether  with  the  additional  misfortune  of  an 
unproductive  oat  crop.  Some  were  found 
dead  in  the  fields,  others  dropped  down 
dead  by  the  side  of  the  roads,  and  multi 
tudes  expired  in  their  miserable  cabins 
from  cold,  hunger,  and  nakedness.  Only 
now  and  then  was  any  coroner  called,  the 
deaths  being  too  numerous  to  admit  of 
formal  investigation  into  each.  At  one  of 
the  inquests,  however,  it  appeared  that  a 
poor  man  named  James  Carthy,  in  the 
last  stage  of  weakness  and  exhaustion, 
having  been  given  a  small  quantity  of 
meal  took  it  home,  where  his  unfortunate 
wife  was  confined  to  her  bed  of  straw  by 
want  and  fever.  Having  made  a  fire,  he 
attempted  to  cook  some  '  stir-about,'  but 
his  strength  failed  him;  he  grew  giddy, 
and  fell  with  his  face  into  the  fire.  The 
poor  wife  perceiving  that  he  could  not 
extricate  himself,  in  vain  attempted  to 
leave  her  bed  to  assist  him.  She  had  not 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


481 


the  strength  to  move.  She  heard  the 
crackling  of  the  fire,  and  she  saw  her  hus 
band  writhe  and  expire.  The  effect  upon 
her  mind  and  body  was  too  much  for  her 
.to  bear,  and,  in  just  an  hour  afterwards, 
she  also  was  a  corpse.  Such  instances  as 
this,  of  terrible  individual  suffering,  were 
not  at  all  peculiar  or  rare.  Every  day 
furnished  its  sad  tales,  and  the  living 
heard,  and  endeavored  to  drive  from  their 
minds,  as  soon  as  they  could,  the  horrify 
ing  particulars  that  were  related. 

And  now  it  was,  that,  in  the  midst  of 
her  four-fold  horrors  of  destitution,  pesti 
lence,  famine,  and  death,  the  cry  of  poor 
Ireland,  appealing  to  the  charity  of  nations 
and  of  individuals,  winged  itself  across  the 
Atlantic,  and  enlisted  the  generous  sympa 
thies  of  fair  Columbia.  On  the  twenty- 
second  of  February,  1847,  certain  Boston 
merchants  petitioned  congress  to  lend  one 
of  the  national  ships-of-war,  for  the  pur 
pose  of  carrying  to  Ireland  a  cargo  of  pro 
visions  ;  and  on  the  third  day  of  March, 
the  last  stormy  day  of  the  session,  when 
the  attention  of  every  mind  in  congress 
was  taken  up  in  the  discussion  of  momen 
tous  questions  pertaining  to  finance  and 
war,  the  people  of  the  United  States,  be  it 
said  to  their  honor,  voted  through  their 
representatives,  the  loan  of  the  frigate 
Macedonian  to  Captain  George  C.  DeKay, 
of  New  Jersey,  and  the  loan  of  the  sloop- 
of-war  Jamestown  to  Captain  Robert  Ben 
nett  Forbes  ;  and  by  a  joint  resolution  of 
both  houses  of  congress,  the  president  and 
the  secretary  of  the  navy  were  authorized 
to  send  these  vessels  at  the  expense  of  the 
United  States,  or  to  put  them  into  the 
hands  of  the  gentlemen  named,  for  the 
purpose  indicated.  The  secretary  of  the 
navy,  Hon.  John  Y.  Mason,  in  view  of  the 
demand  for  all  the  resources  of  the  gov 
ernment  to  carry  on  operations  against 
Mexico,  chose  the  latter  alternative. 
Much  credit  was  due  to  the  efforts  of  Hon. 
Robert  C.  Winthrop,  in  congress,  for  this 
favorable  result. 

In  view  of  the  splendid  success  which, 
from  first  to  last,  attended  this  grand 
national  charity,  in  connection  especially 
31 


with  the  voyage  of  the  Jamestown  under 
the  gallant  and  honored  Forbes,  this  sketch 
will  detail  the  circumstances  attending 
the  career  of  that  noble  pioneer  ship  and 
her  distinguished  commander,  deviating  as 
little  as  possible  from  the  official  narrative. 
Five  days  after  the  passage  of  the  resolu 
tion  of  congress,  the  secretary  of  the  navy 
ordered  Commodore  Parker,  of  the  Charles- 
town  navy  yard,  to  prepare  the  Jamestown 
by  the  removal  of  her  armament,  and 
deliver  her  to  Captain  Forbes.  This  order 
came  to  hand  on  the  eleventh  of  March, 
and  on  the  seventeenth,  being  St.  Patrick's 
day,  the  ''Laborers'  Aid  Society,"  of  Bos 
ton,  composed  principally,  if  not  entirely, 
of  poor  Irishmen,  put  their  hands  and 
minds  to  the  holy  work,  and  in  the  course 
of  that  day,  one-seventh  part  of  the  cargo 
was  stowed  away ;  and  by  the  twenty- 
seventh,  notwithstanding  the  interruption 
by  bad  weather,  the  ship  was  full,  drawing 
nearly  twenty  feet,  and  having,  with  her 
stores,  about  eight  thousand  barrels  bulk, 
of  provisions,  grain,  meal,  etc.,  on  board, — 
the  voluntary,  free  and  hearty  contribu 
tions,  from  all  classes  and  sects,  to  the 
suffering  people  of  Ireland, — all  intrusted 
to  the  care  of  one  of  the  truest  men  and 
most  skillful  nautical  commanders  in  all 
America. 

The  cargo  thus  in  readiness,  was  in 
voiced  as  "provisions,  breadstuffs,  and 
clothing,  shipped  by  the  Boston  relief 
committee,  on  board  the  United  States 
Skip  of  Peace,  Jamestown,  R.  B.  Forbes 
commander,  and  to  him  consigned."  As 
such  a  bill  of  lading,  purely  in  the  inter 
ests  of  international  charity,  was  probably 
never  before  identified  with  the  history  of 
a  government  naval  vessel,  the  record  of 
its  contents  may  well  have  a  place  in  these 
pages,  to  gratify  the  laudable  curiosity  of 
the  humane.  But  even  this  constitutes 
but  a  portion — the  first  shipment  only — of 
the  gifts  of  the  citizens  of  New  England 
and  the  United  States,  namely  :  four  hun 
dred  barrels  pork;  one  hundred  tierces 
hams;  six  hundred  and  fifty-five  barrels 
corn  meal ;  two  thousand  five  hundred  and 
one  bags  ditto,  of  one-half  barrel  each  ; 


482 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


four  hundred  aud  seventy-five  bags  ditto, 
of  sixty  pounds  each;  two  hundred  and 
sixty  bags  ditto,  of  one-quarter  barrel  each ; 
one  thousand  four  hundred  and  fifty-two 
bags  ditto,  of  one-eighth  barrel  each  ;  one 
thousand  four  hundred  and  ninety-six 
bags  northern  corn,  one  thousand  three 
hundred  and  seventy-five  barrels  of  bread, 
three  hundred  and  fifty-three  barrels  beans, 
eighty-four  barrels  peas,  eight  hundred 
empty  bags.  The  items  thus  enumerated 
pertain  to  the  Boston  contributions  sent 
by  the  Jamestown ;  the  remaining  schedule 
of  articles  embraces  gifts  from  other  towns 
in  New  England,  namely :  five  hundred 


COKJJ  FOR  THE   LAND  OK  WANT  AND  WOK. 

and  thirty-three  barrels  of  corn,  one-half 
barrel  of  pork,  eighteen  barrels  corn  meal, 
one-half  barrel  oatmeal,  ten  barrels  oat 
meal,  eighty-four  barrels  potatoes,  one  bag 
ditto,  five  hundred  and  forty-seven  bags 
corn,  one  barrel  flour,  one  barrel  rye,  ten 
bags  rye,  one  box  rye,  one  barrel  oats,  one 
box  oats,  three  bags  wheat,  one  tierce 
dried  apples,  three  tierces  beans,  one  bag 
beans,  six  boxes  fish  ;  two  hundred  bags 
meal,  one-eighth  barrel  each;  one-half 
barrel  meal,  sixteen  barrels  clothing,  one- 
half-barrel  ditto,  nine  boxes  ditto,  two 
bundles  ditto;  fifty  barrels  flour,  one-half 
barrel  ditto,  one  hundred  ditto  rice,  fifty 


barrels  corn  meal,  two  barrels  bread,  sixty 
barrels  beans,  one-half  barrel  ditto,  four 
barrels  peas,  four  boxes  clothing. 

This  was  the  bill  of  lading  which  cov 
ered  the  freight  of  the  Jamestown, — that 
ark  of  charity, — commissioned,  by  a  nation 
possessed  at  the  time  of  but  few  ships  of 
war,  and  at  that  very  moment  engaged  in 
a  contest  requiring  all  her  disposable 
naval  force,  to  proceed  to  the  city  of  Cork. 
The  last  time  the  Avar-flag  of  America 
floated  in  the  British  seas  was  in  1812. 
England  and  the  United  States  were  then 
in  hostile  collision.  But  in  every  encoun 
ter  of  the  latter  power,  in  the  guardianship 
of  her  rights  and  the  defense  of  her  honor, 
she  showed  that  irrepressible  character 
which  belongs  to  an  energetic  nation  once 
fairly  roused;  and,  notwithstanding  all 
the  unfavorable  circumstances  of  a  hurried 
organization,  defective  vessels,  wretched 
equipment,  and  want  -of  arsenals,  docks, 
system,  combination,  trained  officers,  and 
naval  discipline,  England  had  never  be 
fore  met  with  an  enemy  so  destructive  to 
her  trade  as  America  proved.  During  tin- 
first  two  years  of  privateering  that  fol 
lowed  the  declaration  of  war,  many  hun 
dred  sail  of  British  merchantmen  were 
captured.  But  now,  all  this  is  changed 
and  reversed.  An  American  war  vessel  is 
sent  to  cruise  up  the  Irish  channel,  but  it 
is  on  a  cruise  of  mercy;  though  a  "vessel 
of  wrath,"  fitted  for  the  work  of  destruc 
tion,  she  has  been  disarmed,  and  converted 
into  a  ministering  messenger  of  succor  to 
the  famished.  She  bears  no  secret  and 
spying  orders,  but  her  mission  is  open  as 
day.  Her  caliber  can  be  estimated  from 
the  weight  she  bears  of  corn — not  can 
non  ;  her  discharges  are  not  to  be  of  "  iron 
rain,"  but  to  descend  in  peaceful  manna. 
In  a  word,  she  goes  laden  with  food  to 
those  who  are  ready  to  perish  ;  and,  having 
consummated  her  great  work,  and  having 
achieved  a  nobler  triumph  than  ever  yet 
crowned  the  most  successful  ship  of  prey 
and  blood,  she  will  return  with  no  red- 
dyed  pennon  flaunting  from  her  mast-head, 
but,  rather,  with  the  grateful  esteem  and 
affectionate  attachment  of  one  of  the  most 


GEEAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


483 


warm-hearted  people  on  the  face  of  the 
globe,  and  with  the  gracious  smile  and 
blessing  of  heaven. 

On  the  twenty-seventh  of  March,  Cap 
tain  Forbes  gave  a  receipt  for  the  ship 
and  her  apparel,  etc.,  the  officers  of  the 
navy  yard  having  rigged  her  while  the 
cargo  was  being  received.  The  outfit  was 
very  complete,  and  on  Sunday,  March 
twenty-eighth,  at  half-past  eight  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  the  ship  cast  off,  amid  the 
hearty  cheers  and  fervent  prayers  of  the 
assembled  crowd,  and  made  sail  on  her 
course.  At  three  o'clock,  the  noble  ship 
had  passed  the  Highlands  of  Cape  Cod, 
and  was  fairly  launched  on  the  broad 
Atlantic,  on  a  voyage  full  of  hope  and 
pleasure.  Forbes,  the  large-hearted,  brave 
and  skillful  commander — whose  time  and 
services  for  the  expedition  were  a  free-will 
offering  to  the  cause  of  humanit}^ — said 
that  it  was  to  him  a  day  full  of  mingled 
emotions  of  satisfaction,  unalloyed  by  any 
unhappy  feeling,  save  that  momentary  and 
easily  forgiven  weakness  that  comes  over 
a  man  when  parting  from  his  family ! 
Grand,  noble-hearted  Forbes  ! 

Thus  auspiciously  under  way,  the  ship 
of  peace,  though  three  feet  or  more  deeper 
than  her  usual  man-of-war  trim,  sailed  and 
worked  admirably,  and  although  her  crew 
proved  very  light  and  not  altogether  effi 
cient,  she  sped  on  successfully,  crossed  the 
Banks  in  forty-three  and  one-half  degrees, 
against  the  will  of  her  navigators,  with 
south,  south-east,  and  southerly  winds, 
and  a  dense  fog,  the  thermometer  varying 
several  degrees  in  the  air  and  water,  indi 
cating  the  proximity  of  ice, — and  after  a 
succession  of  rainy,  dirty  weather,  and 
variable  winds,  the  good  bark  cast  anchor 
in  Cork,  outer  harbor,  on  the  twelfth  of 
April,  exactly  fifteen  days  and  three  hours 
from  the  navy  yard  at  Charles  town,  with 
out  having  lost  a  rope  yarn. 

The  Jamestown  was  very  soon  visited 
by  Lieutenant  Commanding  Protheroe,  of 
her  majesty's  flag-ship,  the  Crocodile, 
under  Rear  Admiral  Sir  Hugh  Pigot,  who 
came  to  say  that  everything  would  be 
done,  within  the  admiral's  power,  to  expe 


dite  the  delivery  of  the  cargo,  and  for  the 
dispatch  of  the  ship  on  her  return  to  the 
United  States.  Intimation  was  accord 
ingly  given,  that  the  timely  aid  of  a 
steamer  would  be  very  acceptable,  to  take 
the  ship  to  the  government  warehouses  at 
Haulbowline.  Unfortunately,  no  steamer, 
belonging  to  the  public  service,  was  just 
then  at  Cork  or  Cove,  and  it  was  therefore 
necessary  to  wait  patiently  until  Tuesday 
afternoon,  when  the  steam  sloop  Geyser 
was  expected  to  arrive  ;  but  just  after  the 
Jamestown  had  weighed  anchors,  in  prep 
aration,  and  no  steamer  coming,  the 
Sabrina,  Captain  Parker,  came  along,  she 
being  a  packet  running,  and  then  bound,  to 
Bristol.  Captain  Parker  shaved  the  ship's 
stern  so  close  as  to  take  off  her  spanker- 
boom,  and  hailing,  asked  the  commander 
if  he  wished  to  be  towed  up ;  a  hearty 
affirmative  was  the  response.  The  Sabrina 
forthwith  towed  her  honored  consort  up  to 
the  government  stores  at  Haulbowline, 
opposite  the  town  of  Cove,  and  seven  or 
eight  miles  below  the  city  of  Cork,  forming 
a  truly  beautiful  harbor. 

Meanwhile,  the  tidings  of  the  approach 
of  the  good  ship,  with  her  rich  and  weighty 
freight  of  food  for  the  perishing,  was  spread 
far  and  wide,  and  many  were  they  who 
watched  anxiously  from  the  shore,  the 
form  of  that  noble  craft  as  she  passed 
along,  and  which  was  now  their  only  hope. 
Even  before  the  anchor  had  fairly  bitten 
the  soil,  a  deputation  of  the  citizens  of 
Cove,  consisting  of  all  parties  in  politics 
and  all  creeds  of  religion,  waited  on  Cap 
tain  Forbes,  with  an  address  of  welcome, 
to  which  he  promptly  and  handsomely 
responded.  The  Cove  Temperance  Band 
came  and  remained  on  board  all  day,  dis 
coursing  sweet  music,  Yankee  Doodle  and 
Lucy  Long  being  performed  with  especial 
frequency  and  vim.  A  plenty  of  men 
came  from  the  Crocodile  to  assist  in 
weighing  the  ship's  anchors,  and  at  night 
the  town  of  Cove  was  illuminated.  As  the 
Jamestown  passed  up  the  harbor  in  tow  of 
the  packet,  she  received  the  cheers  of  thou 
sands  who  lined  the  hills  and  quay,  and 
innumerable  ladies  waved  their  handker- 


484 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 

v\         — 


ARRIVAL  OF  THE  JAMESTOWN  AT  CORK. 


chiefs  in  token  of  delight.  When  parting 
with  Captain  Parker  and  his  very  service 
able  packet,  the  crew  and  passengers  of  the 
latter  joined  in  a  rousing  salute  to  the 
American  visitors,  which  was  answered 
heartily  and  lustily  from  the  Jamestown 
as  well  as  from  the  assembled  throng. 

On  Wednesday,  the  fourteenth,  the 
work  of  discharging  the  cargo  into  the 
government  warehouses  commenced,  with 
out  any  form  of  entry  or  detention  other 
wise.  Captain  Forbes  called  on  the  United 
States  consul,  noted  his  protest,  and  then 
went  to  Cork  in  company  with  that  good 
and  great  man,  Theobald  Mathew,  and 
his  brother ;  was  by  him  introduced  to  the 
collector,  and  to  other  gentlemen  of  note, 
and  had  a  very  warm  reception  from  all. 
On  Thursday,  the  fifteenth  of  April,  the 
citizens  of  Cove  invited  Captain  Forbes  to 
a  banquet.  The  brilliant  company  assem 
bled  at  six  o'clock,  and,  after  the  usual 
regular  toasts, — 'The  Queen,'  and  'Prince 
Albert  and  the  Royal  Family,'  — the  chair 
man,  Hon.  Mr.  Power,  introduced  the 
health  of  the  guest,  with  some  flattering 
encomiums  on  the  generosity  of  the  people 
of  New  England  ;  these  courtesies  were 
acknowledged  by  Captain  Forbes,  in  a 
speech  which  elicited  unbounded  applause. 
Great  harmony  and  enthusiasm  prevailed, 


all  classes  in  politics  and  religion  in  the 
town  uniting  to  do  honor  to  the  occasion 
and  the  guest,  for  the  name  of  FORBES  had 
everywhere  become  a  household  word  of 
honor  and  admiration,  such  as  any  prince 
of  the  kingdom  might  envy. 

An  invitation  having  been  extended  to 
Captain  Forbes  to  meet  the  Temperance 
Institute  at  Cork,  on  the  nineteenth, — the 
institute  of  which  Father  Mathew  was 
both  parent  and  president,  —  Captain 
Forbes  accepted  the  same.  The  occasion 
was  one  specially  made  for  an  expression 
of  gratitude  to  the  people  of  America.  In 
consequence  of  the  distress  out  of  doors, 
the  regular  soirees  had  been  omitted  ;  but 
at  this  time  the  hall  was  beautifully  orna 
mented  with  the  flags  of  England,  Ire 
land,  and  the  United  States,  and  an 
accomplished  choir  discoursed  Yankee 
Doodle,  Lucy  Long,  Jim  Crow,  Hail 
Columbia,  and  sundry  national  Irish  mel 
odies.  The  chairman  and  others  presented 
eloquent  addresses,  the  ladies  clapped 
their  gentle  hands,  and  their  kerchiefs 
waved  welcome  and  gratitude  to  America. 
Captain  Forbes  made  a  brief  reply,  in 
which  he  told  the  ladies,  that,  having  vis 
ited  Blarney  Castle  and  kissed  the  stone, 
he  had  a  great  deal  to  say,  but  found  his 
feelings  too  much  excited  to  admit  of  his 
saying  much.  Father  Mathew,  after  having 
had  his  health  proposed,  made  a  short  and 
feeling  address,  appropriately  conveying 
to  the  people  of  America,  the  expressions 
of  deep  and  heartfelt  thankfulness,  "  more 
for  the  sentiment  of  remembrance  than 
for  the  intrinsic  value  of  the  gifts."  The 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


485 


ladies  having  been  presented  to  Captain 
Forbes,  that  gallant  sailor  was  ever  after 
wards  ready  to  vouch  for  the  fact,  that  the 
ladies  of  Cork  do  shake  hands  like  men  / — 
no  formal  touching  of  the  ends  of  the  fin 
gers,  chilling  the  heart,  but  a  regular 
grip  of  feeling.  It  was  at  this  assembly 
also,  that  the  commander  of  the  James 
town  was  presented  by  some  of  the  city 
artists  with  a  finely  executed  likeness  of 
that  ship,  representing  her  as  she  ap 
peared  just  after  the  Sabrina  had  cast  off 
the  tow  ropes,  and  a  few  moments  before 
the  anchor  was  dropped  at  the  government 
dock-yard.  From  the  ladies,  too,  Captain 
Forbes  was  the  recipient  of  numerous 
poetical  effusions  laudatory  of  the  James 
town's  humane  mission,  and  they  presented 
him  with  some  choice  specimens  of  their 
handywork,  to  carry  as  souvenirs  to  his 
home.  On  Wednesday,  the  twenty-first 
of  April, — twenty-four  days  after  leaving 
Boston, — the  cargo  was  out  and  the  ship 
ready  for  sea.  On  that  day,  Captain 
Forbes  was  "  at  home  "  to  the  ladies  and 
gentlemen  of  Cork  and  Cove,  by  special 
invitation,  from  twelve  to  three.  The 
company  assembled,  in  large  numbers,  and 
an  entertainment,  sui  generis,  was  pro 
vided  by  the  host.  Knowing  that  it 
would  be  impossible  for  him  to  give  such 
a  multitude  a  feast,  and,  indeed,  not  de 
siring  to  do  so  in  a  time  of  famine,  Cap 
tain  Forbes  nevertheless  determined  to 
give  them  something  appropriate,  and 
accordingly  displayed  on  the  table  a  barrel 
of  best  American  bread,  in  the  cask,  flanked 
on  each  side  by  a  huge  piece  of  Fresh 
Pond  ice, — which  latter  the  host  declared 
was  manufactured  expressly  for  the  occa 
sion  on  the  twenty-fifth  of  March.  These 
principal  ingredients  were  helped  out  with 
a  plenty  of  ice  water,  iced  lemonade,  with 
a  little  sprinkling  of  champagne  and 
bread  (baked  on  board  but  rivaling  the 
best),  to  say  nothing  of  a  box  of  Boston 
gingerbread,  which  the  ladies  partook  of 
sparingly,  but  carried  away  with  them  in 
dainty  bits,  to  show  at  home  what  could 
be  done  in  Yankee  land.  The  temperance 
band  played  some  of  their  choicest  airs, 


and,  previous  to  breaking  up,  the  ladies, 
with  their  red-coated  and  blue-coated  part 
ners,  sported  the  light  fantastic  toe,  on  the 
spotless  decks  of  the  noble  ship. 

Among  the  deputations  from  the  dif 
ferent  municipalities  received  by  Captain 
Forbes,  was  a  special  one  from  the  citizens 
of  Cork,  who  delivered  to  him  a  banner 
for  presentation  to  the  city  of  Boston. 
This  was  accompanied  by  an  address 
couched  in  the  most  appropriate  language 
of  personal  and  public  gratitude.  Indeed, 
the  praises  of  free,  happy,  generous 
America,  were  sounded  by  every  tongue. 

The  arrangements  made  by  Captain 
Forbes  for  the  distribution  of  the  cargo 
were  with  a  committee  of  gentlemen  of 
the  very  highest  character  and  represent 
ing  all  shades  of  politics  and  all  creeds  in 
religion,  thus  guaranteeing  that  the  seed 
would  be  sown  to  good  account  both  in  the 
hearts  and  stomachs  of  the  poor  Irish,  as 
well  as  in  the  remembrance  of  the  better- 
off  classes.  That  the  necessities  of  Ire 
land  at  this  time  were  not  at  all  exagger 
ated  by  the  cry  and  wassail  that  went 
forth  from  her  bosom,  into  the  ears  of 
the  civilized  world,  Captain  Forbes  fully 
affirms  from  his  personal  routine  of  ob 
servation.  He  states  that,  in  company 
with  Father  Mathew,  he  went,  on  a  cer 
tain  day,  only  a  few  steps  out  of  one  of 
the  principal  streets  of  Cork,  into  a  lane  ; 
it  was  more  than  the  valley  of  the  shadow 
of  death, — it  was  the  valley  of  death  and 
pestilence  itself.  Enough  was  to  be  seen 
in  five  minutes  to  appall  the  stoutest 
heart — hovels  crowded  with  the  sick  and 
dying,  without  floors,  without  furniture, 
and  with  beds  of  dirty  straw  covered  with 
still  more  filthy  shreds  and  patches  of 
humanity ;  some  called  for  water  to  Father 
Mathew,  and  others  for  a  dying  blessing. 
From  this  very  small  sample  of  the  pre 
vailing  destitution,  the  visitors  proceeded 
to  a  public  soup  kitchen,  under  a  shed, 
guarded  by  police  officers ;  here  a  large 
boiler  containing  rice,  meal,  and  so  forth, 
was  at  work,  while  hundreds  of  specters 
stood  without,  begging  for  some  of  this 
soup,  which  Captain  Forbes  did  not  hesi- 


486 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


tate  afterwards  to  declare  would  be  refused 
by  well-bred  pigs  in  his  own  country  ! 

With  reference  to  the  last  observation, 
however,  it  may  be  remarked  that  it  was 
made  with  not  the  least  disrespect  to  the 
benevolent  who  provided  the  means  and 
who  ordered  the  ingredients.  Indeed,  the 
demand  for  immediate  relief  was  so  great, 
that,  if  the  starving  could  be  kept  alive, 
it  was  all  that  could  be  expected.  The 
energies  of  the  poor  had  become  so 
cramped  and  deadened  by  want  and  suf 
fering  of  every  type,  that  they  cared  only 
for  sustenance,  and  they  were  unable  to 
earn  it ;  crowds  flocked  in  from  the  coun 
try  to  the  city,  and  the  hospitals  and  jails 
and  poor-houses  were  full  to  overflowing, 
the  numbers  that  died  daily  simply  mak 
ing  room  for  those  who  were  soon  also  to 
die.  Every  corner  of  the  streets  was  filled 
with  pale,  care-worn  creatures,  the  weak 
leading  and  supporting  the  weaker,  women 
assailing  the  passer-by  at  every  turn,  with 
famished  babes,  imploring  alms — and  woe 
to  the  man  who  gave  to  them !  Captain 
Forbes  himself  tried  it !  He  gave  six 
pences,  with  which  to  the  extent  of  a  pound 
sterling  he  had  provided  himself ;  occa 
sionally,  as  pursued  with  Father  Mathew 
in  company,  he  cast  a  sixpence  back  to  the 
crowd,  and  like  the  traveler  who  was  pur 
sued  by  hungry  wolves,  and  who  threw 
out  a  little  something  to  distract  their 
attention,  the  captain  passed  on  at  a 
quicker  pace  until  protection  could  be 
found  from  the  heart-rending  appeals  of 
the  poor  creatures,  by  going  into  a  store 
and  finally  escaping  by  the  back  door; 
they,  however,  finding  the  man  who  thus 
had  silver  to  give,  unearthed,  renewed  the 
pursuit,  and  he  finally  took  shelter  on 
board  a  steamer. 

At  half-past  three,  of  the  afternoon 
of  April  twenty-second,  the  Jamestown 
started  from  Cork,  in  tow  of  her  majesty's 
steamer  Zephyr,  on  her  return  voyage, 


which  she  accomplished  by  the  fifteenth 
of  May,  after  an  absence  of  seven  weeks 
and  one  hour  from  the  navy  yard,  during 
which  time  there  were  resting  upon  her 
the  best  wishes  and  prayers  of  millions, — 
and  it  seemed  as  if  heaven  particularly 
smiled  upon  the  noble  vessel,  in  her 
speedy  passage  out  and  her  safe  return. 
The  mission  must  always  be  regarded  as 
one  of  the  grandest  events  in  the  history 
of  nations, — one  of  the  noblest  charities 
on  record.  In  token  of  their  gratitude 
and  esteem,  the  people  of  Cork  and  its 
vicinity  presented  to  Captain  Forbes  a 
large  and  massy  salver  of  solid  silver, 
measuring  thirty  inches  in  length  by 
twenty  in  breadth,  a  rich  and  most  beauti 
ful  piece  of  workmanship,  valued  at  nearly 
one  thousand  dollars,  and  inscribed  as 
follows  :  '  Presented  to  Robert  Bennett 
Forbes,  Esq.,  of  Boston,  United  States, 
by  the  Inhabitants  of  the  County  and 
City  of  Cork,  Ireland,  in  acknowledgment 
of  his  philanthropic  mission  to  their 
country,  and  successful  exertions  for  the 
relief  of  their  suffering  fellow  country 
men  during  the  fearful  famine  of  1846-7, 
when,  mainly  through  the  instrumen 
tality  of  Captain  Forbes,  large  supplies 
of  food,  the  voluntary  contributions  of 
the  inhabitants  of  the  United  States, 
more  particularly  of  New  England,  were 
carried  to  Ireland  in  the  United  States 
ships-of-war  Jamestown  and  Macedonian 
(the  former  granted  to  him  personally  by 
the  American  Government,  although  en 
gaged  in  a  Mexican  war),  the  Reliance 
and  Tartar,  and  distributed  amongst  a 
starving  and  grateful  people.'  Accom 
panying  this  magnificent  piece  of  plate, 
was  a  Memorial  Address,  inclosed  in  a 
splendidly  ornamental  frame,  representing 
the  Irish  Harp,  and  surmounted  by  the 
American  Eagle,  the  Irish  and  American 
Flags,  and  a  figure  of  the  Jamestown,  all 
appropriately  grouped. 


LVI. 


OENERAL  SCOTT  IN"  THE  HALLS  OF  THE  MONTEZU- 
MAS,  AS  THE  CONQUEROR  OF  MEXICO.— 1847. 


•General  Taylor's  Unbroken  Series  of  Victorious  Battles,  from  Palo  Alto  to  Buena  Vista. — Flight  of 
Santa  Anna  in  the  Dead  of  Midnight. — The  Stars  and  Stripes  Float  Triumphantly  from  the  Towers 
of  the  National  Palace. — First  Foreign  Capital  Ever  Occupied  by  the  United  States  Army. — Peace 
on  the  Invaders'  Own  Terms. — Original  Irritation  between  the  Two  Powers. — Disputed  Points  of 
Boundary. — Mexico  Refuses  to  Yield. — General  Taylor  Sent  to  the  Rio  Grande. — A  Speedy  Collision. 
— Declaration  of  War  by  Congress. — Santa  Anna  Leads  the  Mexicans. — Battles  of  Palo  Alto  and 
Resaca  de  la  Palma. — Raging  Fight  at  Monterey  :  Its  Fall. — Santa  Anna's  War-like  Summons — It  is 
Treated  with  Contempt. — His  Awful  Defeat  at  Buena  Vista. — Doniphan's  March  of  Five  Thousand 
.Miles. — Vera  Cruz,  Cerro  Gordo,  Contreras,  Churubusco,  etc. — Scott's  Order,  "  On  to  Mexico  ! " — 
Huzzas  and  a  Quickstep.— Terrific  Storming  of  Chapultepec. — Scott  Holds  the  Key  to  Mexico. — 
The  Last  Obstacle  Overcome. — Grand  Entrance  of  the  Victors. — Territorial  Gain  to  the  United  States. 


"Under  the  favor  of  God,  the  valor  of  thii  army,  after  many  glorious  victories,  haa  hoisted  the  flag  of  our  country  in  the  Capital  of  Mex- 
•  ico,  and  on  the  Palace  of  its  Government."— GKNKKAL  SCOTT  TO  HIS  AUJIV,  SEPTEMBER  14th. 


PjHIEFLY,  if  not  solely,  owing 
to  the  annexation  of  Texas 
to  the  United  States,  war  broke  out  between 
this  country  and  Mexico,  in  1846,  under  proc 
lamation  by  President  Polk,  in  pursuance  of  formal  declar 
ation  of  hostilities  in  May  of  that  year,  promulgated  by 
congress.     Claiming  Texas  as  a  portion  of  its  own  domain, 
Mexico  had  sturdily  resisted  its  separation  from  her  con 
trol,  either  as  an  independent  power,  or  as  a  portion  of  the 
United  States.     But,   being  forced,  finally,  to  yield  these  points, 
iresh  troubles  soon  succeeded,  arising  from  the  disputed  question  of  y 
boundary.     Mexico  claimed  to  the  Neuces,  and  the  United  States  ^ 
to  the  Rio  Grande  del  Norte.     Santa  Anna,  then  at  the  head  of 
Mexican   affairs,   insisted   on    the   vigorous   assertion  of    Mexico's 


.V. 


488 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


claims,  and  military  force  was  brought  into 
requisition  to  this  end.  It  was  this  pro 
ceeding,  as  alleged,  that  induced  counter 
military  movements  on  the  part  of  the 
United  States,  under  the  lead  of  General 
Taylor,  and  in  a  short  time  collision  and 
open  war  followed,  the  belligerents  putting 
their  best  armies  and  officers  into  the  field, 
the  contest  finally  culminating  in  the  occu 
pancy  of  the  Mexican  capital  by  a  victori 
ous  army  under  General  Scott,  and  in  the 
signing  of  a  treaty  by  which  the  United 
States  came  into  possession — for  a  mere 
nominal  pecuniary  equivalent  —  of  the 
whole  of  Texas,  New  Mexico,  and  Upper 
California. 

The  principal  battles  and  other  military 
movements  which  rendered  this  conflict 
memorable,  were  the  siege  of  Fort  Brown, 


the  battles  of  Palo  Alto  and  Resaca  de  la 
Pal  ma,  the  fall  of  Monterey,  the  battle  of 
Muena  Vista,  Doniphan's  expedition  to 
Chihuahua  and  inarch  of  five  thousand 
mil.-s,  the  reduction  of  Vera  Cruz,  the  bat 
tles  of  Cerro  Gordo,  Contreras,  and  Chu- 
rubusro,  the  storming  of  Chapultepec,  and 
the  entrance  of  Scott  into  the  halls  of 
the  Montexiinias,  as  the  conqueror  of  the 
enemy's  chief  rity, — the  first  instance  of  a 
foreign  <'',y,;/,,/  being  entered  by  the  army 
<>f  the  United  States.  The  latter  event, 
and  tin-  battln  of  Buena  Vista,  formed  the 
ni"-t  important  movements  during  the 
campaign,  and  have  earned  a  conspicuous 


place — as  have  also  their  heroes,  Taylor,, 
and  Scott, — in  American  military  history. 
It  was  on  the  twenty-second  of  February, 
1847,  that  Taylor  made  those  final  dispo 
sitions  of  his  troops  that  ended  in  the  fa 
mous  victory  of  Buena  Vista,  and  which, 
in  the  brief  lapse  of  three  years  thereafter, 
carried  the  victor  to  the  presidential  chair, 
as  chief  magistrate  of  the  United  States. 

The  first  evidence  directly  afforded  the 
United  States  troops  of  the  presence  of 
Santa  Anna,  was  a  white  flag,  dimly  seen 
fluttering  in  the  breeze,  and  which  proved, 
on  the  arrival  of  its  bearer,  to  be  what  the 
Americans  ironically  termed  a  benevolent 
missive  from  Santa  Anna,  proposing  to 
General  Taylor  terms  of  unconditional  sur 
render  ;  promising  good  treatment ;  stat 
ing  that  his  force  amounted  to  twenty 
thousand  men  ;  that  the  defeat  of  the 
invaders  was  inevitable,  and  that,  to 
spare  the  effusion  of  blood,  his  propo 
sition  should  be  complied  with. 

But,  strange  to  say,  the  American 
general  showed  the  greatest  ingrati 
tude  ;  evinced  no  appreciation  what 
ever  of  Santa  Anna's  kindness,  and 
informed  him,  substantially,  that 
whether  his  force  amounted  to  twenty 
thousand  or  fifty  thousand,  it  wa» 
equally  a  matter  of  indifference — the 
terms  of  adjustment  must  be  ar 
ranged  by  gunpoivder.  Santa  Anna's 
rage  at  this  response  to  his  conceited 
summons  was  at  the  boiling  point. 

Skirmishing  continued  until  night 
fall,  and  was  renewed  at  an  early  hour  the 
next  morning,  the  struggle  deepening  in  in 
tensity  as  the  day  advanced,  until  the  battle 
raged  with  great  fury  along  the  entire  line. 
After  various  successes  and  reverses,  the 
fortunes  of  the  day  showed  on  the  side  of 
the  Americans.  Santa  Anna  saw  the 
crisis,  and  true  to  his  instincts,  sought  to 
avert  the  result  by  craft  and  cunning.  He 
sent  a  white  flag  to  General  Taylor,  in 
quiring,  in  substance,  "  what  he  wanted.'* 
This  was  at  once  believed  to  be  a  mere 
ruse  to  gain  time  and  re-collect  his  men ;. 
but  the  American  general  thought  fit  i® 
notice  it,  and  General  Wool  was  deputed 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


489 


to  meet  the  representative  of  Santa  Anna, 
and  to  say  to  him  that  v  hat  was  "  wanted  " 
was  peace.  Before  the  interview  could  be 
had,  the  Mexicans  treacherously  re-opened 
their  fires.  The  flag,  however,  had  accom 


plished  the  ends  which  its  wily  originator 
designed — a  re-enforcement  of  his  cavalry 
during  the  parley, — and,  with  his  courage 
thus  restored,  he  determined  to  charge 
Taylor's  line.  Under  cover  of  their  artil 
lery,  horse  and  foot  advanced  upon  the 
American  batteries,  the  latter,  against  all 
disadvantages,  nobly  maintaining  their  po 
sitions,  by  the  most  brilliant  and  daring 
efforts.  Such  was  the  rapidity  of  their 
transitions  that  officers  and  pieces  seemed 
empowered  with  ubiquity,  and  upon  cav 
alry  and  infantry  alike,  wherever  they 
appeared,  they  poured  so  destructive  a  fire 
as  to  silence  the  enemy's  artillery,  compel 
his  whole  line  to  fall  back,  and  soon  to 
assume  a  sort  of  subdued  movement,  indi 
cating  anything  but  victory. 

Again,  the  spirits  of  Taylor's  troops  rose 
high.  The  Mexicans  appeared  thoroughly 
routed ;  and  while  their  regiments  and 
divisions  were  flying  in  dismay,  nearly  all 
the  American  light  troops  were  ordered 
forward,  and  followed  them  with  a  most 
terrible  fire,  mingled  with  shouts  which 
rose  above  the  roar  of  artillery.  The  pur 
suit,  however,  was  too  hot,  and,  as  it 
evinced,  too  clearly,  the  smallness  of  the 
pursuing  force,  the  Mexicans,  with  a  sud 


denness  which  was  almost  magical,  rallied, 
and  turned  back  with  furious  onset.  They 
came  in  myriads,  and  for  a  while  the  car 
nage  was  dreadful  on  both  sides,  though 
there  was  but  a  handful  to  oppose  to  the 
frightful  masses  so  rapidly  hiirled  into  the 
combat,  and  which  could  no  more  be  re 
sisted  than  could  an  avalanche  of  thunder 
bolts.  "  All  is  lost !  "  was  the  cry — or  at 
least  the  thought — of  many  a  brave  Amer 
ican,  at  this  crisis. 

Thrice  during  the  day,  when  all  seemed 
lost  but  honor,  did  the  artillery,  by  the 
ability  with  which  it  was  maneuvered,  roll 
back  the  tide  of  success  from  the  enemy, 
and  give  such  overwhelming  destructive- 
ness  to  its  effect,  that  the  army  was  saved 
and  the  glory  of  the  American  arms  main 
tained. 

The  battle  had  now  raged  with  variable 
success  for  nearly  ten  hours,  and,  by  a  sort 
of  mutual  consent,  after  the  last  carnage 
wrought  among  the  Mexicans  by  the  artil 
lery,  both  parties  seemed  willing  to  pause 
upon  the  result.  Night  fell.  Santa  Anna 
had  been  repulsed  at  all  points  ;  and  ere 
the  sun  rose  again  upon  the  scene,  the 
Mexicans  had  disappeared,  leaving  behind 
them  only  the  hundreds  of  their  dead  and 
dying,  whose  bones  were  to  whiten  their 
native  hills.  The  loss  was  great  on  both 
sides,  in  this  long,  desperate,  and  sanguin 
ary  conflict,  the  force  of  the  Mexicans  be 
ing  as  five  to  one  of  the  Americans. 

Santa  Anna  was  bold  and  persevering, 
and  turned  Taylor's  left  flank  by  the 
mountain  paths  with  a  large  force,  when 
all  seemed  to  be  lost.  But  the  light  artil 
lery  and  the  mounted  men  saved  the  day. 
Throughout  the  action  General  Taylor  was 
where  shots  fell  hottest  and  thickest,  two 
of  which  passed  through  his  clothes.  He 
constantly  evinced  the  greatest  quickness 
of  perception,  fertility  of  resource,  and  a 
cool,  unerring  judgment  not  to  be  baffled. 

One  of  the  bravest  deeds  of  this  struggle 
was  that  performed  by  Major  Dix,  who, 
when  the  air  was  rent  with  shouts  of 
triumph  from  the  enemy,  over  the  inglori 
ous  flight  of  an  Indiana  regiment,  dashed 
off  in  pursuit  of  the  deserters,  and  seizing 


490 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


the  colors  of  the  regiment  as  he  reached 
them,  appealed  to  the  men  to  know 
whether  they  had  determined  thus  to  turn 
their  backs  upon  their  country !  He  was 
answered  by  three  cheers.  A  portion  of 
the  regiment  immediately  rallied  around 
him,  and  was  reformed  by  the  officers. 
Dix,  in  person,  then  led  them  towards  the 
enemy,  until  one  of  the  men  volunteered 
to  take  the  flag. 

Admiration  and  honor  were  showered 
upon  Taylor,  who  had  thus,  with  his  little 
army  of  between  four  and  five  thousand 
men,  met  and  completely  vanquished 
Santa  Anna,  the  greatest  of  Mexican  sol- 


diers,  with  his  army  of  twenty  thousand. 
It  was  a  contest  which,  with  his  other  vic 
torious  battles  at  Palo  Alto,  Resaca  de  la 
Pal  ma,  and  Monterey,  covered  the  hitherto 
almost  unknown  name  of  Taylor  with  a 
halo  of  glory  from  one  end  of  the  land  to 
the  other;  gave  immense  prestige  to 
American  arms ;  and  created,  perhaps  too 
largely,  the  feeling  that  the  conquering 
party  might  now  go  on  and  overrun  the 
country,  and  dictate  its  own  terms  of  peace. 
But  there  were  strong  positions  yet  to  be 
mastered,  and  gory  fields  yet  to  be  won, 
before  that  most  of  all  coveted  achieve 
ment — the  capture  and  occupation  of  the 
Mexican  capital — was  to  crown  the  suc 


cesses  of  the  invaders  and  prove  that  the 
enemy's  country  was  at  their  mercy. 

As  events  proved,  the  last  named  great 
act  in  this  military  drama  was  reserved 
for  General  Scott,  who  had  been  appointed 
by  -the  government  at  Washington,  su 
preme  commander  of  the  army  in  Mexico. 
Taylor  had  led  the  way,  by  his  splendid 
movements  and  victories,  for  the  accom 
plishment  of  all  that  yet  remained  to  be 
done.  Vera  Cruz,  the  key  to  the  Mexican 
capital,  with  the  almost  impregnable  fort 
ress  of  San  Juan  de  Ulloa,  soon  fell  into 
the  hands  of  the  Americans,  after  a  terri 
bly  destructive  cannonade.  A  similar  fate 
befell  nearly  all  the  principal  ports. 
Again  was  Santa  Anna  defeated  on 
the  embattled  heights  of  Cerro 
Gordo,  in  which  tremendous  strong 
hold  he  had  attempted  with  fifteen 
thousand  men,  but  in  vain,  to  op 
pose  Scott,  who  had  only  six  thou 
sand.  To  this  succeeded  the  battle 
of  Contreras,  in  which  the  Mexi 
cans,  led  by  General  Valencia,  who 
had  an  army  of  some  eight  thou 
sand,  were  routed  with  terrible 
slaughter,  by  Gen.  P.  F.  Smith. 
In  a  few  months  from  this  time, 
the  plains  of  Churubusco  witnessed 
another  battle,  the  deadly  carnage 
and  mortal  results  of  which,  no 
pen  could  adequately  portray,  the 
Americans  taking  possession  of 
every  point,  as  triumphant  victors. 
The  prize  was  not  yet  won,  but  orders 
were  in  due  time  given  by  General  Scott 
to  march  to  the  capital.  Deafening  cheers 
and  a  quickstep  greeted  this  order,  on  its 
promulgation.  Two  strong  positions  of 
the  enemy  were,  however,  yet  to  be  over 
come,  namely,  that  of  Molino  del  Rey,  and 
the  strong  castle  of  Chapultepec,  before 
the  city  could  be  reached.  The  first- 
named  was  captured  by  General  Worth, 
after  a  most  bloody  fight,  and  with  the 
loss  of  nearly  one-fourth  of  his  men,  the 
latter  having  at  last  found  it  necessary  to 
burst  open  an  entrance,  and  with  the  bay 
onet  to  meet  the  enemy  hand  to  hand. 
New  and  more  terrible  struggles  were 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


491 


soon  to  take  place.  On  the  eleventh  of 
September,  the  cavalry  were  ordered  to 
make  a  movement  on  the  sloping  plains 
above  Chapultepec  and  Tacubaya,  and 
attack,  if  possible,  the  latter  place.  How 
ever,  the  enemy  kept  a  diligent  look-out, 
and  no  sooner  did  the  cavalry  begin  to 
move  out  of  town  than  their  scouts  ap 
peared  upon  the  spot,  and,  soon  after,  a 
small  force  appeared  to  dispute  the  ap 
proach. 

On  the  twelfth,  the  cannon  began  to 
roar  again,  south  and  west,  at  the  garita 
of  San  Antonio  and  Chapultepec,  but  it 
soon  became  evident  to  them  where  the 
real  attack  was  intended,  for  on  the  south 
side  the  fire  was  slackened,  and  after  a 


time  it  left  off  altogether — while,  on  the 
west  it  grew  more  and  more  violent,  until, 
at  about  eight  o'clock,  the  Americans 
opened  their  battery  of  mortars  upon  the 
castle,  and  began  to  throw  shell  with  terri 
ble  precision. 

General  Pillow's  approach,  on  the  west 
side,  lay  through  an  open  grove,  filled  with 
sharpshooters,  who  were  speedily  dis 
lodged  ;  when,  being  up  with  the  front  of 
the  attack,  and  emerging  into  open  space, 
at  the  foot  of  a  rocky  acclivity,  that  gal 
lant  leader  was  struck  down  by  an  agoniz 
ing  wound.  The  broken  acclivity  was  still 
to  be  ascended,  and  a  strong  redoubt, 
midway,  to  be  carried,  before  reaching  the 
castle  on  the  heights.  The  advance  of  the 


brave  men,  led  by  brave  officers,  though 
necessarily  slow,  was  unwavering,  over 
rocks,  chasms,  and  mines,  and  under  the 
hottest  fire  of  cannon  and  musketry.  The 
redoubt  now  yielded  to  resistless  valor. 

Shout  after  shout  rung  wildly  through 
the  victorious  ranks  of  the  assailants, 
announcing  to  the  castle  the  fate  that 
impended.  The  Mexicans  were  steadily 
driven  from  shelter  to  shelter.  The  re 
treat  allowed  no  time  to  fire  a  single  mine, 
without  the  certainty  of  blowing  up  friend 
and  foe.  Those  who,  at  a  distance,  at 
tempted  to  apply  matches  to  the  long 
trains,  were  shot  down  by  the  Americans. 
There  was  death  below  as  well  as  above 
ground.  At  length  the  ditch  and  wall  of 
the  main  work  were  reached,  and  the 
scaling-ladders  were  brought  up  and 
planted  by  the  storming  parties.  Some  of 
the  daring  spirits  in  the  assault  were  cast 
down,  killed  or  wounded ;  but  a  lodgment 
was  soon  made,  streams  of  heroes  followed, 
all  opposition  was  overcome,  and  several  of 
the  regimental  colors  were  flung  out  from 
the  upper  walls,  amid  long  continued 
shouts  and  cheers.  All  this  sent  dismay 
into  the  capital.  To  the  Americans,  no 
scene  could  have  been  more  animating  or 
glorious. 

General  Quitman  performed  a  distin 
guished  part  in  these  movements,  nobly 
sustained  by  his  officers  and  men. 
Simultaneously  with  the  movement  on 
the  west,  he  gallantly  approached  the 
south-east  of  the  same  works  over  a  cause 
way  with  cuts  and  batteries,  and  defended 
by  an  army  strongly  posted  outside,  to  the 
east  of  the  works.  These  formidable 
obstacles  had  to  be  faced,  with  but  little 
shelter  for  troops  or  space  for  maneuvering. 
Deep  ditches,  flanking  the  causeway, 
made  it  difficult  to  cross  on  either  side  into 
the  adjoining  meadows ;  and  these,  again, 
were  intersected  by  other  ditches.  The 
storming  party,  however,  carried  two 
batteries  that  were  in  the  road,  took  some 
guns,  with  many  prisoners,  and  drove  the 
enemy  posted  behind  in  support ;  they 
then  crossed  the  meadows  in  front,  under 
a  heavy  fire,  and  entered  the  outer 


4<>L) 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


493 


inclosure  of  Chapultepec  just  in  time  to 
join  in  the  final  assault  from  the  west. 
Captain  Barnard,  of  the  voltgeur  regiment, 
was  the  first  to  plant  a  regimental  color. 

During  the  period  covered  by  these 
exciting  scenes,  the  firing  in  and  about 
the  castle  had  three  times  apparently 
reached  its  crisis  or  climax,  and  then 
suddenly  slackened,  inducing  the  belief  in 
some  quarters  that  the  assault  had  been 
beaten  off;  but,  at  about  half-past  nine 
o'clock  the  Mexican  flag  suddenly  disap 
peared,  a  blue  flag  was  shown,  and  directly 
after  the  stars  and  stripes  arose  and  waved 
over  the  conquered  fortress.  Immediately 
after  having  taken  the  place,  the  Americans 
hauled  down  the  light  field-pieces  from  the 
castle,  and  fired  them  upon  the  retreating 
enemy,  upon  whose  heels  they  closely 
followed.  The  firing  came  nearer,  and  at 
about  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the 
innermost  intrenchments  began  to  open 
their  fire,  and  balls  to  whistle  in  the  town. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  forces  of 
Worth  and  Quitman — the  former  proceed 
ing  by  the  San  Cosme  aqueduct,  and  the 
latter  along  that  of  Belen.  Scott  joined 
the  advance  of  Worth,  within  the  suburb, 
and  beyond  the  turn  at  the  junction  of  the 
aqueduct  with  the  great  highway  from  the 
west  to  the  gate  of  San  Cosme.  In  a  short 
time,  the  troops  were  engaged  in  a  street 
fight  against  the  Mexicans  posted  in 
gardens,  at  windows,  and  on  housetops — 
all  flat,  with  parapets.  Worth  ordered 
forward  the  mountain  howitzers  of 
Cadwallader's  brigade,  preceded  by  skir 
mishers  and  pioneers,  with  pickaxes  and 
crowbars,  to  force  windows  and  doors,  or 
to  burrow  through  walls.  The  assailants 
were  soon  in  unequality  of  position  fatal 
to  the  enemy.  By  eight  o'clock  in  the 
evening,  Worth  had  carried  two  batteries 
in  this  suburb.  There  was  but  one  more 
obstacle,  the  San  Cosme  gate  (custom 
house),  between  him  and  the  great  square 
in  front  of  the  cathedral  and  palace — the 


heart  of  the  city.  There  was  a  lull  in  the 
firing,  and  already  the  inhabitants  were 
hoping  to  pass  a  quiet  night,  when 
suddenly  the  dull  roar  of  a  heavy  mortar 
resounded  close  by  the  town,  and  shells 
with  fiery  tails  came  with  portentous 
energy.  The  gallant  Quitman  pressed  on, 
regardless  of  gates,  batteries,  or  citadels, 
and  compelled  Santa  Anna  to  break  up  in 
the  middle  of  the  night  and  retreat  ivith 
all  his  force,  leaving  the  city  to  the  mercy 
of  the  victors.  He  turned  northward  to 
the  villa  of  Gaudaloupe,  and  after  a  short 
rest  retreated  on  to  San  Juan  de 
Teotihuacan. 

On  Tuesday  morning,  September  four 
teenth,  1847,  the  first  American  column 
made  its  appearance  in  the  streets  of 
Mexico,  and  came  on  in  dense  masses 
through  the  principal  avenues — Calle  San 
Francisco,  del  Correo,  de  la  Professa,  and 
the  two  Plateros,  in  a  straight  line  from 
the  Alameda  up  to  the  palace  and  Plaza- 
Mayor.  The  Mexican  colors  now  disap 
peared  from  the  palace,  a  regimental  flag 
took  their  place,  and  directly  afterwards 
the  stars  and  stripes  were  flung  out  and 
waved  proudly  from  the  Halls  of  the 
Montezumas, — the  first  strange  banner 
that  had  ever  floated  from  that  palace 
since  the  conquest  of  Cortez. 

On  entering  the  palace,  one  of  General 
Scott's  first  acts  was  to  require  from  his 
comrades-in-arms,  their  thanks  and  grat 
itude  to  God,  both  in  public  and  pri 
vate  worship,  for  the  signal  triumphs 
which  they  had  achieved  for  their  coun 
try  ;  warning  them  also  against  disorders, 
straggling,  and  drunkenness. 

Thus  was  the  prowess  of  American  arms 
successfully  asserted,  the  conquered  nation 
being  also  compelled  to  cede  the  immensely 
valuable  territory  of  New  Mexico  and 
Upper  California  to  the  United  States, 
and  accepting  the  lower  Rio  Grande,  from 
its  mouth  to  El  Paso,  as  the  boundary  of 
Texas. 


LYII. 

EXPEDITION  TO   THE   RIVER  JORDAN   AND   THE   DEAD 
SEA,  BY  LIEUT.  W.  F.  LYNCH.— 1847. 


The  Sacred  River  Successfully  Circumnavigated  and  Surveyed. — Twenty  Days  and  Nights  Upon  the 
"  Sea  of  Death." — It  is  Explored,  and  Sounded,  and  Its  Mysteries  Solved. — Strange  Phenomena  and 
Unrelieved  Desolation  of  the  Locality. — Important  Results  to  Science. — Zeal  in  Geographical 
Research. — Interest  in  the  Holy  Land. — American  Inquiry  Aroused. — Equipment  of  Lynch's 
Expedition. — On  Its  Way  to  the  Orient — Anchoring  Under  Mount  Carmel. — Passage  Down 
the  Jordan. — It  is  Traced  to  Its  Source. — Wild  and  Impressive  Scenery. — Rose  Colored 
Clouds  of  Judea. — Configuration  of  the  Dead  Sea. — Dense,  Buoyant,  Briny  Waters. — Smarting  of  the 
Hands  and  Face. — Salt,  Ashes,  and  Sulphureous  Vapors,  etc. — Tradition  Among  the  Arabs. — Sad 
Fate  of  Former  Explorers. — Temperature  of  This  Sea. — Submerged  Plains  at  Its  Bottom. — Sheeted 
with  Phosphorescent  Foam. — Topography,  Width  and  Depth. — "  Apples  of  Sodom  "  Described. — 
The  Pillar  of  Salt,  Lot's  Wife. 


"  But  here,  above,  around,  below, 

In  mountain  or  in  glen. 

Nor  tree,  nor  shrub,  nor  flower. 

Nor  aught  of  vegetative  power, 

The  wearied  eye  may  ken  ; 

But  all  its  rocke  at  random  thrown,— 

Black  waves,— bare  crags,— and  heaps  of  iton*." 


ELDING   to  the  earnest  desire  of   individuals  and   societies   interested  in  the 
advancement  of  geographical  science,  the  United  States  government  lent  its 
sanction  and  co-operative  aid  to  the  expedition  planned  in  1847,  by  Lieutenant 
W.  F.  Lynch,  an  accomplished  naval  officer,  for  the  exploration  and 
survey  of  the  Dead  Sea.     The  results  of  this  expedition,  so  replete 
•with  information  of  the  most  important  and  deeply  interesting  charac 
ter  concerning  a  spot  so  singular  in  its  sacred  and  historic  associations, 
as  well  as  mysterious  in  its  physical  peculiarities,  fully  justified  the 
zeal  with  which  it  was  advocated  and  the  high  auspices  under  which  it 
embarked. 

The  names  of  those  whose  services  were  accepted  by  the  commander, 
as  members  of  the  expedition,  and  whose  qualifications  were  believed 
to  fit  them   peculiarly  for  the   undertaking,  were  as  follows:     Lieu 
tenant,  John   B.   Dale ;    passed-midshipman,   K.    Aulick ;    herbarist, 
Francis  E.  Lynch ;  master's  mate,  J.  C.  Thomas ;  navigators,  Messrs. 
Overstock,   Williams,  Homer,   Read,   Robinson,  Lee,  Lock- 
wood,  Albertson,  Loveland.     At  Constantinople,  Mr.  Henry 
Bedloe  associated  himself  with  the  expedition,  and,  on  their 

arrival  at  Beirut,  Dr.  H.  J.  Anderson  became  a  member  of  the  party,  making  the  num 
ber  sixteen  in  all.     The  services  of  an  intelligent  native  Syrian,  named  Ameung,  were 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


495 


also  obtained  at  Beirut,  who  acted  in  the 
capacity  of  interpreter,  and  rendered  other 
important  aid. 

By  direction  of  the  government  at 
Washington,  the  store-ship  Supply  was 
placed  at  the  disposal  of  Lieutenant  Lynch, 
and,  as  the  vessel  would  otherwise  he  in 
ballast,  she  was  laden  with  stores  for  the 
United  States  naval  squadron,  then  in  the 
Mediterranean. 

The  Supply  sailed  from  New  York, 
November  twenty-first,  and  in  about  three 
months  anchored  off  Smyrna.  From  the 
latter  place,  the  officers  of  the  expedition 
proceeded  to  Constantinople  in  the 
Austrian  steamer,  with  the  view  of  ob 
taining  from  the  Sultan,  through  the 
American  minister,  permission  to  pass 
through  a  part  of  his  dominions  in  Syria, 
for  the  purpose  of  exploring  the  Dead  Sea, 
and  of  tracing  the  Jordan  to  its  source. 
The  reception  by  the  young  sultan  was  in 
all  respects  favorable;  the  authorization 
was  granted,  and  the  sultan  expressed 
much  interest  in  the  undertaking,  request 
ing  to  be  informed  of  the  results. 

Thus  armed  with  all  necessary  powers, 
the  officers  returned  to  Smyrna,  rejoining 
the  Supply.  On  the  tenth  of  March,  the 
expedition  sailed  for  the  coast  of  Syria, 
and,  after  touching  at  Beirut  and  other 
places,  came  to  anchor  in  the  Bay  of  Acre, 
under  Mount  Carrnel,  March  twenty- 
eighth.  The  explorers,  with  their  stores, 
tents,  and  boats,  having  landed,  an  en 
campment  was  formed  on  the  beach, 
and  the  Supply  departed  to  deliver  to  the 
naval  squadron  the  stores  with  which  it 
was  laden,  with  orders  to  be  back  in  time 
for  the  re-embarkation  of  the  exploring 
party. 

The  first  difficulty  of  a  practical  nature 
was  how  to  get  the  boats  across  to  the  Sea 
of  Tiberias.  The  boats,  mounted  on 
trucks,  were  laden  with  the  stores  and 
baggage  of  the  party,  and  all  was  arranged 
most  conveniently — only  the  horses  could 
not  be  persuaded  to  draw.  The  harness 
was  also  found  to  be  much  too  large  for 
the  small  Syrian  horses;  and  although 
they  manifestly  gloried  in  the  strange 


equipment,  and  voluntarily  performed 
sundry  gay  and  fantastic  movements,  the 
operation  of  pulling  was  altogether  averse 
to  their  habits  and  inclinations.  At  last, 
the  plan  suggested  itself  of  trying  camels. 
On  being  harnessed,  three  of  the  huge 
animals  to  each  truck,  they  marched  off 
with  the  trucks,  the  boats  upon  them, 
with  perfect  ease,  to  the  great  delight  of 
the  sojourners,  and  equal  astonishment  to 
the  natives. 

All  the  arrangements  being  now 
perfected,  the  travelers  took  their  de 
parture  from  the  coast,  on  the  fourth  of 
April.  They  were  accompanied  by  a  fine 
old  man,  an  Arab  nobleman,  called  Sherif 
Hazza,  of  Mecca,  the  thirty-third  lineal 
descendant  of  the  prophet.  As  he  ap 
peared  to  be  highly  venerated  by  the 
Arabs,  Lieutenant  Lynch  thought  it  would 
be  a  good  measure  to  induce  him  to  join 
the  party,  and  he  was  prevailed  upon  to 
do  so.  Another  addition  to  the  party  was 
made  next  day  in  the  person  of  a  Bedouin 
sheikh  of  the  name  of  Akil,  with  ten  well- 
armed  Arabs,  or  fifteen  Arabs  in  all, 
including  servants. 

But  little  information  concerning  the 
Jordan  could  be  obtained  at  Tiberias,  and 
it  was  therefore  with  considerable  con 
sternation  that  the  course  of  that  river 
was  soon  found  to  be  interrupted  by 
frequent  and  most  fearful  rapids.  Thus, 
to  proceed  at  all,  it  often  became  necessary 
to  plunge  with  headlong  velocity  down  the 
most  appalling  descents.  So  great  were 
the  difficulties,  that,  on  the  second  evening, 
the  boats  were  not  more  than  twelve  miles 
in  direct  distance  from  Tiberias. 

The  banks  of  the  Jordan  were  found 
beautifully  studded  with  vegetation ;  the 
cultivation  of  the  ground,  however,  not  so 
extensive  as  it  might  be,  and  as  it  would 
be,  if  the  crops  were  secured  to  the 
cultivator  from  the  desperadoes  who  scour 
the  region.  The  waters  of  the  Jordan, 
clear  and  transparent  except  in  the  im 
mediate  vicinity  of  the  rapids  and  falls, 
are  well  calculated  for  fertilizing  the 
valleys  of  its  course.  There  are  often 
plenty  of  fish  seen  in  its  deep  and  shady 


496 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


course.  The  wide  and  deeply-depressed 
plain  through  which  the  river  flows,  is 
generally  barren,  treeless,  and  without 
verdure ;  and  the  mountains,  or  rather, 
the  cliffs  and  slopes  of  the  risen  uplands, 
present,  for  the  most  part,  a  wild  and 
cheerless  aspect.  The  verdure,  such  as  it 
is,  may  only  be  sought  on  and  near  the 
lower  valley  or  immediate  channel  of  the 
Jordan.  No  one  statement  can  apply  to 
the  scenery  of  its  entire  course;  but  this 
description  given  of  the  central  part  of  the 
river's  course,  is  a  fair  specimen  of  the 
kind  of  scenery  which  the  passage  of  the 
river  offers. 

Lieutenant  Lynch  describes  the  charac 
ter  of  the  whole  scene  of  this  dreary 
waste  as  singularly  wild  and  impressive. 


Looking  out  upon  the  desert,  bright  with 
reverberated  light  and  heat,  was,  he  says, 
like  beholding  a  conflagration  from  a 
window  at  twilight.  Each  detail  of  the 
strange  and  solemn  scene  could  be  ex 
amined  as  through  a  lens.  The  moun 
tains  towards  the  west  rose  up  like 
i>hui<ls  from  the  sea,  with  the  billows 
heaving  at  their  bases.  The  rough  peaks 
caught  the  slanting  sunlight,  while  sharp 
Mark  shadows  marked  the  sides  turned 
from  the  rays.  Deep  rooted  in  the  plain, 
the  bases  of  the  mountains  heaved  the 
garment  of  the  earth  away,  and  rose 
abruptly  in  naked  pyramidal  crags,  each 
scar  and  fissure  as  palpably  distinct  as 
though  within  reach,  and  yet  were  far 
distant.  Toward  the  south,  the  ridges 
and  higher  masses  of  the  range,  as  they 


swept  away  in  the  distance,  were  aerial  and 
faint,  and  softened  into  dimness  by  a  pule 
transparent  mist.  The  plain  that  sloped 
away  from  the  bases  of  the  hills  was 
broken  into  ridges  and  multitudinous  cone- 
like  mounds,  resembling  tumultuous  water 
at  the  meeting  of  two  adverse  tides,  and 
presented  a  wild  and  checkered  tract  of 
land,  with  spots  of  vegetation  flourishing 
upon  the  frontiers  of  irreclaimable  sterility. 
A  low,  pale,  and  yellow  ridge  of  conical 
hills  marks  the  termination  of  the  higher 
terrace,  beneath  which  sweeps  gently  this 
lower  plain  with  a  similar  undulating 
surface,  half  redeemed  from  barrenness  by 
sparse  verdure  and  thistle-covered  hillocks. 
Still  lower  was  the  valley  of  the  Jordan — 
the  sacred  river ! — its  banks  fringed  with 
perpetual  verdure  ;  winding  in  a  thousand 
graceful  mazes ;  the  pathway  cheered 
with  songs  of  birds,  and  its  own  clear 
voice  of  gushing  minstrelsy  ;  its  course  a 
bright  line  in  this  cheerless  waste. 

Concerning  an  earlier  portion  of  the 
river's  course,  about  one-third  from  the 
lake  of  Tiberias,  Lieutenant  Lynch  says, 
that,  for  hours  in  their  swift  descent  the 
boats  floated  down  in  silence — the  silence 
of  the  wilderness.  Here  and  there  were 
spots  of  solemn  beauty.  The  numerous 
birds  sang  with  a  music  strange  and 
manifold ;  the  willow  branches  were 
spread  upon  the  stream  like  tresses,  and 
creeping  mosses  and  clambering  weeds, 
with  a  multitude  of  white  and  silvery  little 
flowers,  looked  out  from  among  them  ;  and 
the  cliff  swallow  wheeled  over  the  falls,  or 
went  at  his  own  will,  darting  through  the 
arched  vistas,  and  shadowed  and  shaped 
by  the  meeting  foliage  on  the  banks. 
There  was  but  little  variety  in  the  scenery 
of  the  river;  the  streams  sometimes 
washed  the  bases  of  the  sandy  hills,  at 
other  times  meandered  between  low  banks, 
generally  fringed  with  trees  and  fragrant 
with  blossoms.  Some  points  presented 
views  exceedingly  picturesque.  The 
western  shore  is  peculiar  from  the  high 
calcarious  limestone  hills  which  form  a 
barrier  to  the  stream  when  swollen  by  the 
efflux  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  during  the 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


497 


winter  and  early  spring ;  while  the  left 
and  eastern  bank  is  low  and  fringed  with 
tamarisk  and  willow,  and  occasionally  a 
thicket  of  lofty  cane,  and  tangled  masses 
of  shrubs  and  creeping  plants,  gave  it  the 
appearance  of  a  jungle. 

No  less  than  twenty-two  nights  were 
spent  by  the  party  upon  the  lake.  During 
this  time  the  whole  circuit  of  it  was  made, 
including  the  back-water  at  the  southern 
extremity,  which  had  never  before  been 
explored  in  boats.  Every  object  of  in 
terest  upon  the  banks  was  examined : 
and  the  lake  was  crossed  and  recrossed  in 
a  zigzag  direction  through  its  whole 
extent,  for  the  purpose  of  sounding.  The 
figure  of  the  lake,  as  sketched  by  the 
party,  is  somewhat  different  from  that 
usually  given  to  it.  The  breadth  is  more 
uniform  throughout ;  it  is  less  narrowed 
at  the  northern  extremity,  and  less 
widened  on  approaching  the  peninsula  in 
the  south.  In  its  general  dimensions  it 
is  longer,  but  is  not  so  wide  as  usually 
represented.  Its  length  by  the  map  is 
forty  miles,  by  an  average  breadth  of 
about  nine  miles.  The  water,  a  nauseous 
compound  of  bitters  and  salts. 


A  fresh  north  wind  was  blowing  as  they 
rounded  the  point.  They  endeavored  to 
steer  a  little  to  the  north  of  west,  to  make 
a  true  west  course,  and  threw  the  patent 
log  overboard  to  measure  the  distance ; 
but  the  wind  rose  so  rapidly  that  the 
boats  could  not  keep  head  to  wind,  and  it 
became  necessary  to  haul  the  log  in.  The 
sea  continued  to  rise  with  the  increasing 
wind,  which  gradually  freshened  to  a 
gale,  and  presented  an  agitated  surface  of 
foaming  brine ;  the  spray,  evaporating  as 
it  fell,  left  incrustations  of  salt  upon  the 
voyagers'  clothes,  as  also  their  hands  and 
faces  ;  and,  while  it  conveyed  a  prickly 
sensation  wherever  it  touched  the  skin, 
was,  above  all,  exceedingly  painful  to  the 
eyes.  The  boats,  heavily  laden,  struggled 
sluggishly  at  first ;  but  when  the  wind 
increased  in  its  fierceness,  from  the  density 
of  the  water  it  seemed  as  if  their  bows 
were  encountering  the  sledge-hammers  of 
the  Titans,  instead  of  the  opposing  waves 
of  an  angry  sea.  Finally,  such  was  the 
force  of  the  wind,  that  it  was  feared  both 
boats  must  founder.  Knowing  that  they 
were  losing  advantage  every  moment,  and 
that  with  the  lapse  of  each  succeeding  one 


VALLEY  OF  THE  JORDAN  AND  DEAD  SEA. 


After  giving  a  sketch  of  the  sights  and 
scenes  attending  the  bathing  of  the  pil 
grims  in  the  Jordan,  Lieutenant  Lynch 
says  that  the  river,  where  it  enters  the  sea. 
is  inclined  towards  the  eastern  shore ;  and 
there  is  a  considerable  bay  between  the 
river  and  the  mountains  of  Belka,  in 
Arnmon,  on  the  eastern  shore  of  the  sea. 
32 


the  danger  increased,  they  kept  away  for 
the  northern  shore,  in  the  hope  of  being 
yet  able  to  reach  it, — their  arms,  clothes 
and  skin,  coated  with  a  greasy  salt,  and 
their  eyes,  lips  and  nostrils,  smarting  ex 
cessively. 

But,   although   the  sea  had  assumed   a 
threatening     aspect,     and     the       fretted 


498 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


mountains  loomed  terrific  on  either  side, 
and  salt  and  ashes  mingled  with  its  sands, 
and  fetid  sulphureous  springs  trickled  down 
its  ravines,  the  explorers  did  not  despair. 
Awe  struck,  but  not  terrified,  fearing  the 
worst  yet  hoping  for  the  best,  preparations 
were  made  to  spend  a  dreary  night  upon 
the  dreariest  waste  ever  seen.  There  is  a 
tradition  among  the  Arabs  that  no  one 


the  exact  topography  of  its  shores,  as 
certained  the  temperature,  width,  depth, 
and  velocity  of  its  tributaries,  collected 
specimens  of  every  kind,  and  noted  the 
winds,  currents,  changes  of  the  weather, 
and  all  atmospheric  phenomena.  The 
bottom  of  this  sea  consists  of  two  sub 
merged  plains,  an  elevated  and  a  depressed 
one.  Through  the  northern,  and  largest 


can  venture  upon  this  sea  and  live,  and  the 
sad  fates  of  Costigan  and  Molyneux  are 
repeatedly  cited  to  deter  such  attempts. 
The  first  one  spent  a  few  days,  the  last 
about  twenty  hours,  and  returned  to  the 
place  from  whence  he  had  embarked 
without  landing  on  its  shores.  One  was 
found  dying  upon  the  shore  ;  the  other 
expired,  immediately  after  his  return,  of 
fever  contracted  upon  its  waters. 

The  northern  shore  is  an  extensive  mud 
flat,  with  a  sandy  plain  beyond,  the  very 
type  of  desolation  ;  branches  and  trunks  of 
trees  lay  scattered  in  every  direction — 
some  charred  and  blackened  as  by  fire, 
others  white  with  an  incrustation  of  salt. 
The  north-western  shore  is  an  unmixed  bed 
of  gravel,  coming  in  a  gradual  slope  from 
the  mountains  to  the  sea.  The  eastern 
coast  is  a  rugged  line  of  mountains,  bare 
of  all  vegetation — a  continuation  of  the 
Hauran  range,  coming  from  the  north,  and 
extending  south  beyond  the  scope  of 
vision,  throwing  out  three  marked  and 
seemingly  equi-distant  promontories  from 
its  south-eastern  extremities. 

Lieutenant  Lynch  fully  sounded  the  sea, 
determined  its  geographical  position,  took 


and  deepest  one,  in  a  line  corresponding- 
with  the  bed  of  the  Jordan,  is  a  ravine, 
which  also  seems  to  correspond  with  the- 
Wady  el-Jeib,  or  ravine  within  a  ravine,  at 
the  south  end  of  the  sea. 

At  one  time,  the  sea  was  observed  to 
assume  an  aspect  peculiarly  somber.  Un 
stirred  by  the  wind,  it  lay  smooth  and 
unruffled  as  an  inland  lake.  The  great 
evaporation  inclosed  it  in  a  thin  transpar 
ent  vapor,  its  purple  tinge  contrasting 
strongly  with  the  extraordinary  color  of 
the  sea  beneath,  and,  where  they  blended 
in  the  distance,  giving  it  the  appearance' 
of  smoke  from  burning  sulphur.  It  seemed 
a  vast  caldron  of  metal,  fused  but  motion 
less.  The  surface  of  the  sea  was  one  wide 
sheet  of  phosphorescent  foam,  and  the 
waves,  as  they  broke  upon  the  shore,  threw 
a  sepulchral  light  upon  the  dead  bushes 
and  scattered  fragments  of  rocks.  The 
exhalations  and  saline  deposits  are  as  un 
friendly  to  vegetable  life  as  the  waters  are 
to  animal  existence ;  that  fruit  can  be 
brought  to  perfection  there,  may  therefore 
well  be  considered  improbable. 

The  celebrated  "Apples  of  Sodom,"  so 
often  spoken  of  by  ancient  and  modern. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


499 


writers,  are  peculiar  to  this  locality.  The 
plant  is  a  perennial,  specimens  of  which 
have  been  found  froir  ten  to  fifteen  feet 
high,  and  seven  or  eight  feet  in  girth.  It 
has  a  gray,  cork-like  bark,  with  long  and 
oval  leaves.  The  fruit  resembles  a  large 
smooth  apple  or  orange,  and  when  ripe  is 
of  a  yellow  color.  It  is  fair  to  the  eye, 
and  soft  to  the  touch,  but  when  pressed, 
it  explodes  with  a  puff,  leaving  in  the 
hand  only  the  shreds  of  the  rind  and  a  few 
fibers.  It  is,  indeed,  chiefly  filled  with 
air  like  a  bladder,  which  gives  it  the  round 
form,  while  in  the  center  is  a  pod  contain 
ing  a  quantity  of  fine  silk  with  seeds. 
When  green,  the  fruit,  like  the  leaves  and 
the  bark,  affords,  when  cut  or  broken,  a 
thickish,  white  milky  fluid.  This  plant, 
however,  which  from  being  in  Palestine 
found  only  on  the  shores  of  the  Dead  Sea, 
was  locally  regarded  as  being  the  special 
and  characteristic  product  of  that  lake,  is 
produced  also  in  Nubia,  Arabia,  and  Persia. 
Thus,  this  assumed  mystery  of  the  'Sea  of 
Death '  is  a  simple  phenomenon  of  nature, 
easily  explained ;  as  is  also  that  of  the 
alleged  fire  and  smoke  of  the  lake,  being, 
as  already  described,  simply  mist  and 
phosphorescence. 

In  regard  to  the  pillar  of  salt  into  which 
Lot's  wife  was  turned, — one  of  the  most 
remarkable  facts  recorded  in  holy  writ, — 
and  the  continued  existence  of  which  has 
always  been  asserted  by  the  natives,  as 
well  as  by  many  travelers,  Lieutenant 
Lynch  asserts  that  a  pillar  is  there  to  be 
seen ;  the  same,  without  doubt,  to  which 
the  reports  of  the  natives  and  of  travelers 
refer.  But  that  this  pillar,  or  any  like  it. 
is  or  was  that  into  which  Lot's  wife  was 
transformed,  cannot,  of  course,  be  demon 
strated. 

It  is  a  lofty,  round  pillar,  standing  ap 
parently  detached  from  the  general  mass, 


at  the  head  of  a  deep,  narrow,  and  abrupt 
chasm.  Immediately  pulling  in  for  the 
shore,  the  lieutenant  in  company  with  Dr. 
Anderson,  went  up  and  examined  it.  The 
beach  was  a  soft,  slimy  mud,  encrusted 
with  salt,  and  a  short  distance  from  the 
water,  covered  with  saline  fragments,  and 
flakes  of  bitumen.  They  found  the  pillar 
to  be  of  solid  salt,  capped  with  carbonate 
of  lime,  cylindrical  in  front  and  pyramidal 
behind.  The  upper  or  rounded  part  is 
about  forty  feet  high,  resting  on  a  kind  of 
oval  pedestal,  from  forty  to  sixty  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  sea.  It  slightly  decreases 
in  size  upwards,  crumbles  at  the  top,  and  is 
one  entire  mass  of  crystallization.  A  prop 
or  buttress  connects  it  with  the  mountain 
behind,  and  the  whole  is  covered  with  de 
bris  of  a  light  stone  color.  Its  peculiar 
shape  is  attributable  to  the  action  of  the 
winter  rains.  Lieutenant  Lynch  gives  no 
credit  to  the  representations  that  connect 
this  pillar  or  column  with  Lot's  wife. 
And  this  is  true  of  most  travelers  who  have 
visited  the  spot,  though  Montague  gives  it, 
as  his  opinion,  that  Lot's  wife  having  lin 
gered  behind,  she,  while  so  lingering,  be 
came  overwhelmed  in  the  descending  fluid, 
and  formed  the  model  or  foundation  for 
this  extraordinary  column ;  a  lasting  me 
morial  of  God's  punishing  a  most  deliber 
ate  act  of  disobedience. 

After  an  absence  of  a  little  more  than  a 
year,  Lieutenant  Lynch  returned,  with  his 
companions,  to  the  United  States,  the  ex 
pedition  having  been  highly  successful  in 
accomplishing  the  purpose  for  which  it 
was  planned ;  comparing  most  favorably 
in  this  respect  with  the  results  of  explora 
tions  made  by  other  parties,  and  receiving 
the  highest  encomiums  of  English  review 
ers,  some  of  whose  comments,  throwing 
additional  light  on  various  points  involved 
in  the  subject,  are  here  presented. 


LVIII. 

DISCOVERY   OF   GOLD    AT    SUTTER'S    MILL,   CALIFOR 
NIA.— 1848. 


Widely  Extended  and  Inexhaustible  Deposits  of  the  Precious  Metal. — The  News  Spreads  like  Wild-fire 
to  the  Four  Quarters  of  the  Globe. — Overwhelming  Tide  of  Emigration  from  All  Countries. — Nucleus 
of  a  Great  Empire  on  the  Pacific. — California  Becomes  the  El  Dorado  of  the  World  and  the  Golden 
Commonwealth  of  the  American  Union  — First  Practical  Discovery  of  the  Gold. — On  John  A.  Sutler's 
Land. — Found  by  J.  W.  Marshall  — Simple  Accident  that  Led  to  It. — Marshall's  Wild  Excitement — 
Shows  Sutler  the  Golden  Grains. — A  Dramatic  Interview. — The  Discovery  Kept  Secret. — How  it 
was  Disclosed. — A  Real  Wonder  of  the  Age. — Trials  of  the  Early  Emigrants. — Their  Bones  Whiten 
the  Soil. — All  Professions  at  the  Mines — Impetus  Given  to  Commerce. — Life  Among  the  Diggers. — 
Disordered  State  of  Society. — Crimes,  Outrages,  Conflagrations. — Scarcity,  Fabulous  Prices. — Mining 
by  Machinery. — Order  and  Stabiliiy  Reached.— Population  in  1867,  600,000. — Gold  in  Ten  Years, 
•600,000,000. 


*  Gold  to  fttch.  »nd  gold  to  crnd, 
Oold  to  borruw.  and  gnh\  to  lend. 
Gold  to  kwp.  nnd  (told  to  ep»nd. 
And  abundance  of  fold  inj 


ITHOUT  any  exaggeration,  it 
may  be  asserted  that  no  modern 
event  has  been  the  cause  of  so 
much  romance  in  real  life, — no 

branch  or  sphere  of  trade,  even  though  perfected  by  long 
experience,  has  called  into  employment  so  many  of   the 
means  and  instrumentalities  of  diversified  human  industry 
and   commercial   intercourse, — indeed,   nothing  within  the 
memory  of  man,  except  the  achievements  of  steam  and  the 
electric  telegraph,  approaches  so  nearly  to  magic,  as  the 
discovery  of  gold,  in  luxurious  deposits,  on  the  shores  of  the 
Pacific,  and  that,  too,  in  the  soil  of  a  territory  which,  by 
conquest  and  purchase,  had  but  just  fallen,  like  fruit  golden 
ripe,  into  the  lap  of  the  Great  Republic.     This 
discovery  occurred  at  Slitter's  mill,  in  Coloma 
county,  California,  in  February, 
1848.' 

Here,  however,  it  deserves  to 
be  stated  as  a  matter  of  histori- 
-  cal   interest,  that   gold  placers 
were  worked  in  certain  portions 
of   California,   long  before   the 
<>r I:K. vnoxs  IN  CALIFORNIA.  discovery  just  mentioned.     The 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


501 


evidence  of  this  appears  in  a  letter  ad 
dressed  by  Abel  Stearns,  of  Los  Angeles, 
to  Louis  R.  Lull,  secretary  of  the  Califor 
nia  Society  of  Pioneers.  Mr.  Stearns,  who 
went  to  California  from  Mexico  in  1829, 
states  that  on  the  22d  of  November,  1842, 
he  sent  by  Alfred  Robinson — who  returned 
from  California  to  the  states  by  way  of 
Mexico — twenty  ounces  California  weight, 
or  eighteen  and  three-fourths  ounces  mint 
weight,  of  placer  gold,  to  be  forwarded  by 
him  to  the  United  States  mint  at  Phila 
delphia;  the  mint  assay  was  returned 
August  6,  1843.  This  gold  was  taken 
from  placers  first  discovered  in  March, 
1842,  by  Francisco  Lopez,  a  Californian, 
at  San  Francisquito,  about  thirty-five  miles 
north-west  from  Los  Angeles.  It  appears 
that  Lopez,  while  resting  in  the  shade  with 
some  companions,  during  a  hunt  for  stray 
horses,  dug  up  some  wild  onions  with  his 
sheath  knife,  and  in  the  dirt  discovered  a 
piece  of  gold.  Searching  further,  he  found 
more  pieces,  and  on  returning  to  town  an 
nounced  his  discovery.  A  few  persons, 
mostly  Sonorians,  who  were  accustomed  to 
placer  mining  in  Mexico,  worked  in  the 
San  Francisquito  placer  from  this  time 
until  the  latter  part  of  1846  (when  the 
war  with  the  United  States  disturbed  the 
country),  taking  out  some  six  thousand  to 
eight  thousand  dollars  in  value,  per  annum. 
The  United  States  mint  certificate  for  the 
assay  made  for  Mr.  Stearns  in  1843,  is  now 
in  the  archives  of  the  "  Society  of  Califor 
nia  Pioneers." 

Before  the  great  event  which  made  the 
year  1848  so  memorable,  the  influence  of 
the  United  States  had  already  become  con 
spicuous  in  the  affairs  of  California,  and 
had  in  a  degree  prepared  the  way  for  what 
was  to  follow.  In  the  words  of  a  British 
writer,  the  United  States  spread  her  actual 
influence  long  before  she  planted  a  flag  as 
the  sign  of  her  dominion.  For  two  years 
previous  to  the  capture  of  Monterey,  in 
1846,  her  authority  had  been  paramount  in 
California.  At  length,  toward  the  close  of 
the  summer  of  1845,  Fremont  appeared  in 
the  neighborhood  of  Monterey,  whose  park- 
like  scenery  —  trees  scattered  in  groups 


over  grassy  hills,  wide  sloping  fields,  plan 
tations  of  oak  and  fir,  red-tiled  houses, 
yellow-washed  church,  and  white  cottages 
— showed  in  pleasant  contrast  to  the  deso 
late  region  of  the  Rocky  mountains  he  had 
left.  He  was  accompanied  by  some  of  his 
trappers  —  men  of  muscle  and  daring, 
dressed  in  deer-skin  coats,  with  formidable 
rifles,  and  mounted  on  tall,  spare  horses. 
They  rode  in  Indian  file  through  the  out 
skirts  ;  their  leader  viewed  the  town,  and 
they  vanished.  Soon  again  he  appeared, 
with  an  ominous  array  of  thirty-five  fol 
lowers,  encamped  on  a  woody  height ;  was 
commanded  to  depart,  was  driven  to  the 
hills,  pursued,  and  again  lost  sight  of. 
An  American  ship  then  sailed  into  the 
harbor.  Fremont  was  again  at  Monterey. 
The  Californians  foresaw  the  probable 
progress  of  events,  and  perhaps  secretly 
desired  the  fostering  protection  of  the 
great  republic.  While  balancing  between 
that  and  independence,  two  United  States 
vessels  simultaneously  entered  the  harbors 
of  Monterey  and  San  Francisco,  and  in 
July,  1846,  the  whole  of  California  came 
under  the  rule  of  America.  A  new  era 
was  again  opened.  An  immediate  change 
appeared.  Industry  was  revived;  deserted 
villages  were  repeopled ;  neglected  lands 
were  again  cultivated ;  decaying  towns 
were  renovated;  and  the  busy  hum  of 
toil  broke  that  silence  and  lethargy  which 
brooded  over  an  ill-governed  country. 

But  another  and  greater  change  was  at 
hand,  to  turn  the  tide  of  her  fortunes  into 
a  new,  a  wider,  and  more  diffusive  channel, 
and  to  raise  California  from  the  condition 
of  a  wild  and  isolated  territory,  to  be  the 
very  focus  of  the  world's  attention, — the 
spot  where  innumerable  streams  of  emigra 
tion  from  the  four  quarters  of  the  world, 
from  barbarous  and  civilized  countries, 
pouring  across  the  Rocky  Mountains,  or 
brought  over  the  sea,  from  distant  shores, 
were  to  meet  in  tumultuous  confluence, 
and,  flowing  upon  each  other,  form  an 
eddying  whirlpool  of  excitement,  such  as 
few  countries  on  the  globe,  in  any  period 
of  their  history,  could  present  to  the  ob 
servation  of  mankind. 


502 


OUK  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


What  is  the  character  of  this  region, 
independently  of  its  newly -discovered 
treasures,  at  the  period  mentioned  ?  It 
is  wealthy  in  many  natural  resources.  Its 
extent  is  great.  From  Cape  Mendocino, 
at  the  borders  of  the  United  States,  to  the 
root  of  the  peninsula,  is  seven  hundred 
miles,  and  Lower  California  thrusts  out 
its  vast  tongue  to  an  almost  equal  dis 
tance.  The  old  region  is  for  the  most 
part  a  broken,  hilly,  and  barren  tract  of 
land  ;  but  occasional  plains  of  rich  fertility 
alternate  with  the  less  favored  tracts,  and 
these  formed  the  sites  of  the  old  Jesuit 
missions.  Alta  California  extends  from 
the  coast  to  the  provinces  of  New  Mexico. 
Of  the  interior  desert  basin,  little  is  known, 
except  that  it  is  a  wild,  rocky,  and  woody 
territory,  watered  by  a  few  rivers,  and 
lakes,  rising  periodically  from  the  earth, 
and  peopled  by  wandering  Indian  hordes. 
The  Sierra  Nevada,  or  snowy  range,  di 
vides  the  gold  region  from  the  great  des 
ert  basin ;  and  between  this  and  the  sea 
lies  another  line  of  mountains,  forming  a 
valley  live  hundred  miles  in  length,  wa 
tered  by  the  Sacramento  and  the  San 
Joachim.  These  streams,  forming  a  junc 
tion  in  the  center  of  the  valley,  diverge 
toward  the  sea,  and  pour  in  an  united 
current  into  the  harbor  of  San  Francisco 
— one  of  the  noblest  on  the  globe.  The 
aspect  of  the  country  is  diversified,  and 
full  of  beauty.  Green  valleys,  glittering 
lakes,  and  verdant  hills,  extend  along  the 
interior  borders,  backed  by  the  rounded 
spires  of  the  snowy  range,  whose  deep  ra 
vines  and  caverns  are  just  now  peopled  by 


toiling  gold-hunters;  and  these  are  drawing 
more  wealth  from  the  bleakest,  most  bar 
ren,  and  most  neglected  spots,  than  a  hus 
bandman  in  the  course  of  many  years  could 
derive  from  the  most  luxuriantly  cultivated 
land.  Along  the  river  banks,  light  grassy 
slopes  alternate  with  stony,  broken,  sandy 
expanses,  honey-combed  as  it  were  by 
time,  but  now  swarming  with  amateur 
delvers.  However,  the  countrv,  as  a 
whole,  is  fertile  ;  producing  readily  grains, 
vegetables,  and  fruits,  with  tine  timber, 
whilst  immense  pasture  grounds  afford 
nourishment  to  the  flocks  and  herds  that 
once  formed  the  principal  wealth  of  Cali 
fornia. 

Up  to  the  year  1847,  so  comparatively 
small  were  the  gatherings  of  gold,  in 
various  sections  of  the  globe,  that  in 


BtTTTHR'S  MILL,    WHKBK  OOLD  WAS  F1BST  DISOOYKBKD,   IN  1848. 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


503 


reckoning  the  average  produce  of  the  pre 
cious  metal,  of  all  parts  of  the  New  and 
Old  World  for  a  series  of  years  previous  to 
1847,  it  did  not  amount  to  the  annual 
value  of  twenty-five  million  dollars. 

It  was  in  September,  1847,  that  Captain 
John  A.  Sutter,  the  great  pioneer  settler 
in  California,  commenced  an  undertaking 


JOHN    A.    SUTTER. 


which  led,  by  a  very  simple  and  ordinary 
circumstance,  to  the  first  jjractical  dis 
covery  of  the  prodigiously  valuable  gold 
mines  of  California — the  long-sought  El 
Dorado  of  ancient  and  modern  times. 
This  undertaking  consisted  in  the  erection 
of  a  saw-mill  at  Coloma,  on  a  mountainous 
spot  about  one  thousand  feet  above  the 
level  of  the  valley,  where  the  Rio  des  los 
Americanos  pours  down  from  the  Sierra 
Nevada  to  swell  the  united  streams  of  the 
Sacramento  and  San  Joachim. 

Such  an  enterprise,  in  such  a  region,  at 
a  time  when  the  political  and  social  con 
dition  of  the  country  was  so  unsettled  and 
uncertain,  indicated  a  mind  of  energy  and 
executive  capacity,  on  the  part  of  the 
projector.  And  it  was  even  so,  in  full 
measure,  in  the  case  of  Captain  Sutter. 
He  is  described,  by  his  biographers,  in  the 
annals  of  San  Francisco,  as  an  intelligent 
Swiss  emigrant,  who  sailed  for  and  reached 
New  York,  in  July,  1834 ;  but  finally 
settled  and  for  several  years  resided  in 
Missouri.  The  wild  west  had  always 
possessed  a  charm  for  him,  and  he  had  re 
moved  thither;  but  now  his  adventurous 
spirit  looked  still  further  towards  the  setting 


sun,  and  roved  along  the  waters  that  sped 
their  unknown  way  to  the  Pacific.  Leav 
ing  family  and  home,  in  company  with  Sir 
William  Drummond  Stewart,  he  joined  a 
party,  under  the  charge  of  Captain  Tripps, 
of  the  American  Fur  Company,  and  start 
ed  for  the  broad  valleys  of  California, 
where  he  knew  that  rich  and  fertile  lands 
only  awaited  an  industrious  cultivator,  and 
where  Providence  had  even  a  still  richer 
yielding  field  that  he  knew  not  of.  He 
left  the  trappers  at  their  rendezvous  on 
the  Wind  river  among  the  Kansas  Rocky 
mountains,  and  with  a  new  party  of  six 
decided  on  proceeding  to  their  destination 
by  way  of  Oregon.  Crossing  the  valley  of 
the  Willamette,  lie  finally  arrived  at  Fort 
Vancouver,  and  there  ascertained  that 
innumerable  delays  must  elapse  before  he 
could  reach  California.  Nothing  daunted, 
and  apparently  urged,  like  Columbus,  to 
accomplish  his  object  despite  of  fate, 
Captain  Sutter  sailed  for  the  Sandwich 
Islands,  hoping  to  embark  thence  direct 
for  the  Spanish  coast.  But  when  he 
arrived  there,  no  vessels  were  about  to  sail 
in  that  direction.  Again  he  threw  down 
the  gauntlet  to  fate,  and  re-embarked  for 
Sitka  Island,  in  Russian  America,  and 
from  that  immense  distance  at  last  reached 
Yerba  Buena,  Jul}r  second,  1839.  Not 
permitted  to  land  here,  he  again  embarked, 
and  was  finally  allowed  to  set  foot  on 
California  soil  at  Monterey.  Having  suc 
ceeded  in  overcoming  the  Spanish  opposi 
tion  to  foreign  settlers,  he  obtained  the 
permission  of  Governor  Alvarado  to  locate 
himself  in  the  valley  of  the  Rio  del  Sacra 
mento ;  more  readily  granted,  perhaps, 
because  it  was  then  the  abode  of  savage 
Indians.  He  explored  the  Sacramento, 
Feather  and  American  rivers,  and  in 
August,  1839,  about  eighteen  months  after 
he  commenced  his  journey,  permanently 
established  himself  on  the  latter  river, 
with  a  colon}'  of  only  three  whites  and 
eight  Kanakas.  In  a  short  time,  he  re 
moved  to  the  location  afterwards  known  as 
Sutter's  Fort,  and  took  possession  of  the 
surrounding  country  under  a  Mexican 
grant,  giving  to  it  the  name  of  New 


504 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


Helvetia.  From  this  point  he  cut  a  road 
to  the  junction  of  the  Sacramento  and 
American  rivers,  where  he  established  a 
quay  or  landing-place,  on  the  site  of  which 
has  since  been  built  the  city  of  Sacramento. 
Here  he  remained  for  several  years,  becom 
ing  possessor  of  a  large  amount  of  land, 
and  rapidly  carrying  on  various  and  ex 
tensive  improvements.  At  one  time  lie 
had  a  thousand  acres  sown  in  wheat,  and 
owned  eight  thousand  neat  cattle,  two 
thousand  horses  and  mules,  as  many  sheep, 
and  a  thousand  swine.  He  was  appointed 
alcalde  of  the  district  by  Commodore 
Stockton,  and  Indian  agent  by  General 
Kearney  ;  and  with  all  his  sympathies 
with  this  country,  his  earnest  wish  was  to 
see  California  brought  into  the  American 
Union. 

Among  the  followers  of  Sutter  was 
James  W.  Marshall,  who  emigrated  from 
New  Jersey  to  Oregon  in  1843,  and  a  year 
later  went  to  California.  By  trade  he 
was  a  carpenter,  and  to  him  Captain 
Sutter  intrusted  the  erection  of  the  saw 
mill  at  Coloma,  where  good  water-power 
and  plenty  of  lumber  had  determined  its 
location.  It  was  this  enterprise  which  led 
to  the  most  famous  discovery  of  gold  ever 
known  in  the  history  of  the  globe.  How 
this  happened,  has  been  differently  related 
by  different  authorities,  but  perhaps  by 
none  more  authentically  than  by  Mr. 
Dunbar,  president  of  the  Traveller's  Club 
of  New  York.  The  saw-mill  was  com 
pleted  in  January,  1848,  and  they  had 
just  commenced  sawing  lumber,  when,  on 
the  night  of  February  2d,  Marshall 
appeared  at  Slitter's  Fort,  his  horse  in  a 
foam  and  himself  presenting  a  singular 
appearance — all  bespattered  with  mud, 
and  laboring  under  intense  excitement. 

And  now  ensued  a  scene  which  can 
scarcely  be  exceeded  in  its  elements  of 
dramatic  representation.  Marshall  imme 
diately  requested  Captain  Sutter  to  go 
with  him  into  a  room  where  they  could  be 
alone.  This  request  was  granted,  and, 
after  the  door  was  closed,  Marshall  asked 
Captain  Sutter  if  he  was  sure  they  would 
not  be  disturbed,  and  desired  that  the 


door  might  be  locked.  Captain  Sutter  did 
not  know  what  to  make  of  his  actions,  and 
he  began  to  think  it  hazardous  to  lock 
himself  in  the  room  with  Marshall,  who 
appeared  so  uncommonly  strange.  Mar 
shall  being  satisfied  at  last  that  they 
would  not  be  interrupted,  took  from  his 
pocket  a  pouch  from  which  he  poured 
upon  the  table  about  an  ounce  of  yellow 
grains  of  metal,  which  he  thought  would 
prove  to  be  gold.  Captain  Sutter  inquired 
where  he  got  it.  Marshall  stated  that  in 
the  morning,  the  water  being  shut  off  from 
the  saw-mill  race,  as  was  customary,  he 
discovered,  in  passing  through  the  race, 
shining  particles  here  and  there  on  the 
bottom.  On  examination,  he  found  them 
to  be  of  metallic  substance,  and  the 
thought  flashed  over  him  that  they  might 
be  gold.  Jfoir  big  with  events  was  tliis 
point  of  time  .'  Marshall  stated  that  the 
laborers — white  and  Indian — had  picked 
up  some  of  the  particles,  and  he  thought 
a  large  quantity  could  be  collected. 

Captain  Sutter  was  at  lirst  quite 
incredulous  as  to  these  particles  being 
gold,  but  happening  to  have  a  bottle  of 
nitric  acid  among  his  stores,  he  applied 
the  test,  and,  true  enough,  the  yellow 
grains  proved  to  be  pure  gold.  The  great 
discovery  icas  made! 

The  account  given  above  agrees  sub 
stantially  with  Captain  Slitter's  own 
narrative  of  the  event,  namely :  That 
M;irshall  had  contracted  with  him  for  the 
building  of  a  saw-mill  for  producing 
lumber,  on  the  south  fork  of  the  American 
River,  a  feeder  of  the  Sacramento.  In 
the  course  of  his  operations,  Marshall  had 
occasion  to  admit  the  river  water  into  the 
tail-race,  for  the  purpose  of  widening  and 
deepening  it  by  the  strength  of  the 
current.  In  doing  this,  a  considerable 
quantity  of  mud,  sand,  and  gravel,  was 
carried  along  with  the  stream,  and 
deposited  in  a  heap  at  the  foot  of  the  tail- 
race.  Marshall,  when  one  day  examining 
the  state  of  his  works,  noticed  a  few 
glittering  particles  lying  near  the  edge  of 
the  heap.  His  curiosity  being  aroused, 
ho  gathered  some  of  the  sparkling  objects; 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


505 


and  he  at  once  became  satisfied  of  their 
nature  and  the  value  of  his  discovery.  All 
trembling  with  excitement,  he  hurried  to 
his  employer  and  told  his  story.  Captain 
Sutter  at  first  thought  it  was  a  fiction,  and 
the  teller  only  a  mad  fool.  Indeed,  he 
confesses  that  he  kept  a  sharp  eye  upon 
his  loaded  rifle,  when  he,  whom  he  was 
tempted  to  consider  a  maniac,  was  eagerly 
disclosing  the  miraculous  tale.  However, 
his  doubts  were  all  at  once  dispelled  when 
Marshall  tossed  on  the  table  before  him 
some  of  the  shining  dust. 

Not  less  interesting  is  the  account  given 
of  the  manner  in  which  the  discovery 
became  public — owing,  as  appears  by  Mr. 
Dunbar's  statement,  to  that  which  extracts 
both  wit  and  wisdom,  as  well  as  folly,  from 
the  brain  of  man.  After  some  examin 
ation,  Captain  Sutter  became  satisfied  that 
gold  in  considerable  quantities  would  be 
found  in  that  neighborhood;  and  while  the 
reflections  of  Marshall  were  probably  con 
fined  to  the  idea  of  rapidly  acquired 
wealth  for  himself,  Captain  Sutter  realized 
at  once  how  impossible  it  would  be  to  hold 
his  laborers  to  their  work  in  carrying  on 
his  improvements,  gathering  his  crops,  and 
avoid  being  overrun  by  new-comers, 
should  the  gold  prove  abundant  and  the 
discovery  be  promulgated.  He  therefore 
begged  the  laborers  to  say  nothing  about 
the  gold  for  six  weeks.  His  grist-mill  and 
some  other  improvements  would  then  be 
completed,  and  his  crops  all  gathered. 
The  laborers  promised  to  comply  with  his 
request,  and  Captain  Sutter  returned  home 
on  the  fifth  of  February.  But  the  great 
secret  could  not  long  be  retained.  A 
bottle  of  whiskey  made  it  known.  A 
teamster,  whom  Captain  Sutter  had  dis 
patched  to  the  saw-mill  with  supplies, 
heard  of  the  discovery  of  gold,  and 
managed  to  obtain  some  of  the  precious 
grains.  On  returning  to  the  fort,  he 
immediately  went  to  the  neighboring 
store,  kept  by  a  Mormon,  and  demanded  a 
bottle  of  whiskey.  This  was  a  cash  article 
in  that  country,  and,  as  the  teamster  was 
poor  pay,  the  trader  refused  to  sell  him 
the  whiskey.  The  man  declared  he  had 


plenty  of  money,  and  exhibited  some 
grains  of  gold.  The  astonished  trader,  on 
being  satisfied  that  these  were  gold,  gave 
his  customer  the  bottle  of  whiskey,  and 
earnestly  inquired  where  he  got  the  gold. 
The  teamster  refused  to  make  known  the 
secret  till  he  had  imbibed  considerable  of 
the  liquor,  when  his  tongue  was  loosened, 
and  he  told  all  about  the  discovery  of  gold 
at  Sutters  mill.  The  wonderful  tale 
spread  like  wild-fire  throughout  the 
sparsely  inhabited  territory  of  California. 
It  ran  up  and  down  the  Pacific  coast, 
traversed  the  continent,  reached  the 
Atlantic  shores,  and  in  a  short  time  the 
story  of  California's  golden  treasures  had 
startled  the  whole  civilized  world. 

Naturally  enough,  the  first  rumors,  as 
they  spread  abroad,    were   lightly    tossed 


JAMES  W.   MARSHALL. 

aside ;  but  confirmation  gave  them 
strength,  and  as  each  transmission  of 
intelligence  to  the  United  States  carried 
fresh  accounts  of  new  discoveries,  an 
enthusiastic  ardor  was  awakened,  and 
within  four  months  of  that  eventful  day, 
five  thousand  persons  were  delving  on  the 
river's  banks,  on  the  slopes,  amid  the 
ravines,  hollows,  and  caverns  in  the  valley 
of  the  Sacramento. 

And  now,  from  the  vast  population  of 
the  great  republic,  new  streams  of  emigra 
tion  broke  at  once  to  swell  that  current 
which  for  years  had  set  noiselessly  toward 
the  valleys  of  California.  Gradually,  the 
knowledge  of  the  auriferous  soil  was  borne 
to  the  four  quarters  of  the  world,  and  from 


506 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


all  the  ports  of  all  nations  sails  were 
spread  toward  the  coasts  of  that  wealthy 
region.  As  by  a  magnetic  impulse,  the 
sands  of  the  Sacramento  attracted  popula 
tion.  Lawyers,  clergymen,  physicians, 
hotel-keepers,  merchants,  mechanics, 
clerks,  traders,  farmers,  left  their  occupa 
tions,  and  hurried  with  basket  and  spade 
to  the  land  that  glittered.  Homes  and 
houses  were  closed  ;  the  grass  threatened 
to  grow  over  whole  streets  ;  deserted  ships 
swung  on  their  anchors  in  silent  harbors. 
The  garrison  of  Monterey  abandoned  arms 
and  took  up  the  pickaxe  and  the  shovel. 
Trains  of  wagons  constantly  streamed 
from  the  coast  to  the  interior.  Stores  and 
sheds  were  built  along  the  river  bank, 
and  crammed  with  provisions  to  be  sold  at 
more  than  famine  prices;  whole  towns  of 
tents  and  bushy  bowers  sprang  up  as  if 
by  magic  ;  every  dawn  rose  upon  a  motley 
toiling  multitude,  swarming  in  every  nook 
and  corner  of  the  modern  El  Dorado,  and 
every  night  was  illuminated  by  the  flames 
of  a  thousand  bivouacs. 

Half-naked  Indians,  sharp-visaged  Yan 
kees  in  straw  hats  and  loose  frocks,  groups 
of  swarthy  Spanish-Americans,  old  Dons 
in  the  gaudy  costume  of  a  dead  fashion, 
gigantic  trappers  with  their  rude  prairie 
garb,  and  gentlemen  traders  from  all  the 
States  of  the  Union,  with  crowds  of 
Calif ornian  women,  jostled  in  tumultuous 
confusion  through  the  gold  district. 
Every  method,  from  the  roughest  to  the 
most  ingenious,  was  devised  for  the  rapid 
accumulation  of  gold ;  and  the  strange 
spectacle  was  presented  of  a  vast  popula 
tion,  without  law,  without  authority,  with 
out  restraint,  toiling  together  in  amicable 
companionship.  But  the  duration  of  this 
condition  of  things  was  brief.  Outrages 
were  perpetrated,  robbery  commenced, 
blood  was  shed,  and  anarchy  in  its  most 
hideous  form  appeared.  But  the  United 
States  government  soon  laid  the  founda 
tions  of  order,  and  prepared  a  system  of 
regular  legislation  for  California.  A 
severe  code  was  established;  thieving  in 
curred  the  heavy  penalty  of  a  brand  on 
the  cheek,  with  mutilation  of  the  ears : 


other  crimes  were  punished  with  similar 
rigor. 

Within  a  period  of  five  months,  the 
population  of  the  territory  had  run  up  to 
one  hundred  thousand,  having  just  quad 
rupled  during  that  time.  Of  these,  some 
forty-live  thousand  arrived  in  the  nine 
thousand  wagons  that  traversed  the  over 
land  route,  and  four  thousand  on  mule- 
back,  while  the  remainder  came  rin 
Panama,  and  round  Cape  Horn.  One- 
third  of  this  multitude  was  composed  of 
farmers,  another  of  tradesmen  and  me 
chanics,  and  the  rest  of  merchants,  pro 
fessional  men,  adventurers,  and  gamblers. 
The  vast  emigrant  armies  acted  as  pioneers 
on  their  various  routes,  hewing  down 
trees,  filling  up  chasms,  leveling  the 
grounds,  and  bridging  torrents.  But  the 
sufferings  endured  in  these  colossal  cara 
vans  were  severe  and  terrible.  Many 
perished  on  the  route;  many  became  in 
sane,  or  wasted  away,  through  lack  of  food 
and  water.  The  scourge  of  cholera  also 
overtook  the  early  emigrants,  before  they 
were  fairly  embarked  on  the  wilderness; 
the  frequent  rains  of  the  early  spring, 
added  to  the  hardships  and  exposure  of 
their  travel,  prepared  the  way  for  its 
ravages,  and  the  first  four  hundred  miles 
of  the  trail  were  marked  by  graves,  to 
the  number  of  about  four  thousand. 
Many  also  suffered  immensely  for  want 
of  food.  Bayard  Taylor,  in  his  narrative 
of  what  befell  these  pioneer  emigrants,  says 
that  not  only  were  they  compelled  to  kill 
their  horses  and  mules  to  keep  themselves 
from  starvation,  but  it  was  not  unusual  for 
a  mess  by  way  of  variety  to  the  tough  mule 
steaks,  to  kill  a  quantity  of  rattlesnakes, 
with  which  the  mountains  abounded,  and 
have  a  dish  of  them  fried  for  supper. 

And  still  the  tide  of  emigration  rolled 
onward,  as  the  richness  of  the  gold 
product,  over  so  vast  a  region  of  territory, 
became  a  confirmed  fact.  Notwithstand 
ing  the  oft-told  story  of  deprivation, 
famine  and  death,  parties  and  companies 
daily  went  forth  to  El  Dorado,  the  golden 
land.  Some  took  the  perilous  inland  route 
across  the  Rocky  mountains;  some  went 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


507 


round  Cape  Horn ;  and  multitudes  took 
the  Panama  route.  The  tens  of  thousands 
who  thus  went,  having  no  other  object 
than  to  get  gold,  had  neither  means  nor 
inclination  to  grow  their  own  food  nor  to 
manufacture  their  own  necessaries ;  and 
hence  arose  a  field  of  enterprise  which  the 
commercial  world  did  not  neglect.  Valu 
able  cargoes  were  dispatched  to  San  Fran 
cisco  to  be  there  sold  in  exchange  for 
gold  dust,  and  that  place  in  time  became  a 
populous,  busy,  thriving  city,  distinguished 
also  for  reckless  speculation,  fabulous 
prices  for  real  estate,  excesses  of  all  kinds, 
and  disastrous  conflagrations.  During 
one  week  in  1850,  gold  dust  to  the  value 
of  three  million  dollars  was  shipped  and 
exported  from  San  Francisco.  In  August 
of  the  same  year  the  monthly  shipment 
had  reached  about  eight  million  dollars. 
On  September  15,  1850,  there  were  in  that 
port  six  hundred  and  eighty-four  vessels, 
belonging  to  twenty-one  different  nations; 
some  of  these  vessels,  small  in  size,  had 
crossed  the  whole  breadth  of  the  Pacific 
from  Australia  and  New  Zealand,  to  ex 
change  their  produce  for  gold  dust.  In 
the  first  two  weeks  of  October,  in  the 
same  year,  ninety-four  vessels  arrived  at 
San  Francisco,  not  including  the  regular 
steamers. 

But  the  most  strange  and  wonderful 
spectacle  of  all,  was  that  exhibited  by 
the  money-diggers  at  their  avocation. 
Men  with  long-handled  shovels  delved 
among  clumps  of  bushes,  or  by  the  side  of 
large  rocks,  never  raising  their  eyes  for  an 
instant;  others,  with  pick  and  shovel, 


worked  among  stone  and  gravel,  or  with 
trowels  searched  under  banks  and  roots 
of  trees,  where,  if  rewarded  with  small 
lumps  of  gold,  their  eyes  suddenly  kindled 
with  pleasure,  and  the  search  was  more 
intently  pursued.  In  the  water,  knee,  or 
even  waist  deep,  regardless  of  the  shiver 
ing  cold,  others  were  washing  the  soil 
in  the  tin  pans  or  the  common  cradle  rocker, 
whilst  the  sun  poured  a  hot  flood  upon  their 
heads.  The  common  rocking  machine 
for  separating  the  gold  was  at  first  in  great 
demand,  but  this  was  soon  superseded  by  a 
cradle  of  ingenious  construction ;  then 
came  crushing  mills,  of  various  kinds,  for 
pounding  the  auriferous  quartz ;  and  in 
time,  machinery  of  the  most  effective 
adaptability  was  universally  introduced. 
This  operated  powerfully  to  regulate  min 
ing  operations,  and  to  give  order  and 
stability  to  affairs  generally  throughout 
the  territory.  Society  assumed  the  most 
advanced  organization,  churches  every 
where  dotted  the  land,  education  was 
fostered,  and  the  political  institutions  of 
the  country  patterned  after  those  of  the 
older  states.  Agricultural,  industrial, 
and  commercial  pursuits  were  entered  upon 
largely  and  with  great  success  ;  California 
was  admitted  as  a  state  into  the  Union  in 
1850  ;  and  in  only  ten  years  from  Mar 
shall's  curious  and  accidental  discovery  of 
gold  at  Sutter's  mill,  in  1848,  the  gold 
product  of  California  had  reached  a  total 
of  six  hundred  million  dollars,  and  the 
population  had  increased  from  between 
twenty  and  thirty  thousand  souls  to  six 
hundred  thousand ! 


LIX. 
ASTOR  PLACE  OPERA-HOUSE  RIOTS,  NEW  YORK.— 1849. 


Terrible  Culmination  of  the  Feud  Between  Macready,  the  English  Star  Actor,  and  Forrest,  the  Great 
American  Tragedian. — Macready  Commences  to  Perform,  but  is  Violently  Driven  from  the  Stage. — 
A  Mob  of  Twenty  Thousand  Men  Surrounds  the  Theater,  and  Thunders  at  its  Doors. — Attempt  to 
Fire  and  Destroy  the  House  — Charge  of  the  Military. — Lamentable  Loss  of  Life. — Fame  of  these  Great 
Actors. — Their  Former  Mutual  Friendship. — Macready's  Tour  in  this  Country. — Forrest  Performs 
in  Europe. — Professional  Jealousies  Aroused. — Open  Rupture  at  Last. — Macready  Again  in  America. 
— Engages  to  Play  in  New  York. — Opposition  to  Him  There. — Appears  on  the  Stage,  May  8th. — Fierce 
Tumult  in  the  House. — Groans,  Hisses,  Insults. — He  Stands  Undismayed. — Flight  of  the  Audience. 
— Re-appearance,  May  10th. — The  House  Filled  to  the  Dome. — Riotous  Yells  and  Cries. — "  Down 
with  the  British  Hog !  " — Heroic  Demeanor  on  the  Stage. — Threats  of  the  Raging  Mob. — Its  Bloody 
Dispersion. — Macready  Leaves  the  Country. 


"  It  often  fall*  In  course  of  common  life. 
That  right  lout?  lirnc  U  overborne  of  wronff ; 
But  justice,  tho'  her  doom  Rite  doth  prolong, 
Yet.  at  the  Itut,  nhe  will  her  own  cause  right" 


ROFESSIONAL  rivalry,  based  principally  upon  circumstances  arising  from 
different  nationality,  had  gradually  produced  feelings  of 
deep  personal  antagonism  between  Mr.  Edwin  Forrest,  con 
fessedly  the  greatest  of  American  tragedians,  and  Mr.  W. 
C.  Macready,  the  most  brilliant  and  powerful  actor  upon 
the  English  stage;  and  this  alienation  was  shared  in  a  still 
greater  degree  of  intensity  by  the  numerous  friends  and 
partisans  of  the  respective  individuals,  finally  culminating 
in  a  tragedy  of  blood  and  de<°th  that  shook  New  York  to  its 
center  and  engrossed  the  attention  of  America  and  Europe 
alike. 

Mr.  Forrest  and  his  friends  complained  chiefly  of  Mr. 
Macready's  conduct  in  his  own  country,  in  relation  to  Mr. 
Forrest,  during  the  visit  of  the  latter  to  England,  in  1844, 
— his  inhospitality,  his  crushing  influence,  his  vindictive 
opposition,  and  his  steadfast  determination  to  ruin  the  pros 
pects  of  Mr.  Forrest  in  Europe.  Mr.  Macready  had  previ- 

FORREST,  AS  spARTActis.  ously  been  in  America,  and,  accompanied  by  Miss  Cushman, 
played  engagements  in  all  the  large  cities,  realizing  therefrom  fame  and  fortune.  But 
instead  of  returning  this  kindness,  he  acted  openly  towards  Mr.  Forrest  as  his  deter 
mined  foe.  In  Paris,  the  two  tragedians  met.  Mr.  Forrest  was  anxious  to  appear  on 
the  French  boards,  but  Macready  threw  obstacles  in  the  way ;  this  was  the  first  time 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


509 


that  the  parties  were  enemies, — they  had 
in  by-gone  years  been  friends.  Forrest's 
subsequent  success  in  London  aroused 
Macready's  bitter  hostility,  and  he  deter 
mined  to  put  him  down.  It  was  said  at 
the  time  that  he  or  his  friends  actually 
hired  men  to  visit  the  theater  and  hiss 
Forrest  off  the  stage,  and  Forrest  was  con 
sequently  received  with  a  shower  of  hisses 
before  he  was  heard.  This  conduct  was 
followed  up  by  the  press,  by  which  both 
Forrest  and  his  country  were  assailed. 
Forrest  and  Mac  ready  next  met  in  Edin 
burgh,  and  from  this  city  were  sent  forth 
bitter  charges  against  Forrest,  the  chief  of 
which  was,  that  he  had  hissed  Macready 
for  dancing  and  throwing  up  his  handker 
chief  across  the  stage,  in  one  of  the  parts 
which  he  was  then  enacting. 

Criminations  and  recriminations  were 
thus  indulged  in,  without  measure,  each 
party  claiming  to  be  the  one  aggrieved, 
and  the  quarrel  enlisted  the  warm  and 
active  interest  of  the  public,  on  both  sides 
of  the  Atlantic.  In  1848,  Mr.  Macready 
again  made  a  professional  visit  to  the 
United  States,  and,  after  performing  in 
various  parts  of  the  country,  commenced  a 
farewell  engagement  at  the  Astor  Place 
Opera-House,  New  York,  in  May,  1849, 
in  the  character  of  Macbeth,  under  the 
auspices  of  Messrs.  Hackett  and  Niblo. 

Here  the  anti-Macready  party  deter 
mined  to  silence  him  by  mob  violence. 
The  seventh  of  May  was  the  time  appointed 
for  him  to  commence  this  engagement, — 
with  what  result,  the  accounts  given  by 
the  press  of  that  city  will  show,  as  follows  : 
As  soon  as  the  doors  were  opened,  a  very 
large  number  of  persons,  of  the  male  sex, 
entered  the  theater,  and  took  their  seats  in 
different  parts  of  the  house.  They  were 
followed  by  many  others,  among  whom 
were  probably  fifty  or  sixty  ladies.  Long 
before  the  curtain  rose,  the  house  was  well 
filled,  the  gallery  and  parquette  being  quite 
crowded. 

It  now  began  to  be  whispered  about, 
that  the  reception  of  Mr.  Macready  would 
not  be  favorable  on  the  part  of  a  portion 
of  the  auditory;  and  the  appearance  of 


Mr.  Matsell,  the  chief-of-police,  and  a  very 
strong  body  of  the  force  under  his  orders, 
seemed  to  strengthen  the  rumors  which 
were  prevalent.  The  house  was,  however, 
perfectly  quiet  until  the  curtain  rose  upon 
the  first  scene,  when  the  appearance  of 
Mr.  Clarke,  who  personated  the  character 
of  Malcolm,  elicited  three  loud  and  en 
thusiastic  cheers  from  the  parquette  and 
gallery.  From  this  moment,  the  cheer 
ing,  hissing,  whistling,  and  other  ex 
pressions  of  feeling  began,  and  not  a 
syllable  was  heard  during  the  remain 
der  of  the  scene,  and  the  succeeding,  till 
the  entrance  of  Macbeth,  passing  in  dumb 
show.  When  Macbeth  and  Banquo  en 
tered  in  the  third  scene,  the  uproar  was 
deafening.  A  perfect  torrent  of  groans 
and  hisses  assailed  Mr.  Macready,  and  a 
deluge  of  assafoetida  was  discharged  upon 
him  from  the  gallery,  filling  the  whole 
house  with  its  pungent  and  offensive  odor. 
A  rotten  egg  was  projected  against  him, 
but  missing  the  face  of  the  eminent  trage 
dian,  bespattered  the  stage  at  his  feet. 
The  friends  of  Mr.  Macready,  who  ap 
peared  rather  to  outnumber  those  opposed 
to  him,  now  manifested  their  feelings  by 
cries  of  "shame!"  "shame!"  cheers,  and 
waving  of  handkerchiefs,  provoking  a  re 
sponse  in  the  form  of  renewed  groans, 
hisses,  and  half  a  dozen  rotten  potatoes, 
on  the  part  of  the  others.  "  Three  cheers 
for  Edwin  Forrest !  "  were  called  for  by 
some  one  in  the  pit,  and  were  given  with 
great  enthusiasm  by  those  unfriendly  to 
Mr.  Macready.  Then  came  the  cry  of 
"  Three  cheers  for  Macready  !  "  which  was 
responded  to  with  equal  enthusiasm  by  the 
opposite  side  of  the  house. 

The  scene  which  followed  beggars  de 
scription.  Hisses,  groans,  cheers,  yells, 
screams,  all  sorts  of  noises,  in  the  midst  of 
which  Mr.  Macready  still  maintained  his 
position  in  the  center  of  the  stage. 
"  Off!  "  "  off!  "  shouted  one  party.  "  Go 
on  !  "  "go  on  !  "  screamed  the  other.  Mr. 
Macready  approached  the  lights.  He  was 
greeted  by  roars  of  ironical  laughter,  and 
reiterated  hisses  and  groans.  A  banner 
was  at  this  moment  exhibited  in  front  of 


510 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1770-1876. 


the  amphitheater,  bearing  on  its  side,  "  No 
apologies — it  is  too  lute !  ''  and  on  the 
other,  "  You  have  ever  proved  yourself 
a  liar  !  "  The  appearance  of  this  banner 
was  the  signal  for  a  perfect  tornado  of 
uproarious  applause,  laughter,  cheers,  and 
groans,  in  the  midst  of  which  an  old  shoe 
and  a  cent  piece  were  hurled  at  Mr. 
Mac  ready,  who  picked  up  the  copper  coin, 
and,  with  a  kingly  air.  put  it  in  his  bosom, 
bowing,  at  the  same  time,  with  mock 
humility,  to  the  quarter  of  the  gallery 
from  which  the  visitation  had  descended. 


Lady  Macbeth,  who  was  represented  on 
this  occasion  by  Mrs.  Coleman  Pope — a 
very  beautiful  and  queenly-looking  woman 
— fared  little  better  than  her  lord.  Not  a 
syllable  of  her  part  was  audible.  With 
great  calmness,  and  without  the  least 
wavering,  however,  this  lady  made  a  show 
of  going  through  her  part.  All  on  the 
stage  fared  alike.  It  was  evident  that 
there  was  a  fixed  and  settled  determina 
tion  on  the  part  of  that  portion  of  the 
auditory  which  occupied  nearly  one-third 
of  the  parquette,  and  the  greater  portion 
of  the  gallery,  between  whom  a  communi 
cation  was  kept  up  throughout  the  even- 
i»g>  by  means  of  signals  and  exclamations, 


not  to  permit  the  performance  to  proceed. 
Several  of  Mr.  Mac  ready's  friends  now 
became  much  excited,  and  shouted  to  him 
to  "  go  on,"  and  "  not  to  give  up  the  ship," 
which  elicited  tremendous  groans,  hisses, 
and  cries  of  "  Three  groans  for  tin1  codfish 
aristocracy,"  which  were  responded  to  with 
marked  enthusiasm.  Cries  of  "  Down  with 
the  Enylish  hoy  !  " — "  Take  off  the  Devon 
shire  bull!"  —  "Remember  how  Edwin 
Forrest  was  used  in  London!" — and  sim 
ilar  exclamations,  were  loud  and  frequent. 
Thus  passed  the  whole  of  the  first  and 
second  acts,  the  uproar  not  ceas 
ing  for  a  moment. 

When  the  curtain  fell,  in  t In- 
second  act,  the  tumult  was  fiercer 
than  ever,  and  it  was  qufte  ap 
parent  that  something  still  more 
serious    was    approaching.     Yet 
the  greater  portion  of  the  audi 
tory  opposed    to    Mr.    Mac-ready 
seemed     in      excellent      humor. 
They    chanted    snatches    of    the 
witches'    choruses,    and    amused 
themselves   by  asking   repeated 
ly,    "  Where'*      Macready  ?  "  - 
"  Where's  Eliza  Brown  ?  "—and 
other  interrogations  of  that  char 
acter.       One    gentleman    in    the 
parquette,    amongst     those    who 
were  hostile   to   Mr.   Macready, 
ogled   the   house  through  a  stu 
pendous  eye-glass,  large  enough 
for  a  horse   collar;    and    others 
threw   themselves    into  a  variety  of   atti 
tudes     more     peculiar     than      becoming. 
"  Three    cheers    for    Macready,    Xiyyer 
Douglass  and  Pete  Williams,''  were  now 
called  for,  and  given  with  vehemence. 

At  length  the  curtain  rose  on  the  third 
act ;  and,  in  dumb  show,  Banquo,  advanc 
ing  to  the  lights,  commenced,  but  not 
a  syllable  was  audible.  Then  Macbeth 
reappeared,  and  the  uproar  was  greater 
than  ever.  Smash  came  a  chair  from  the 
gallery,  nearly  grazing  the  head  of  a 
member  of  the  orchestra,  and  strewing 
the  stage  with  its  fragments,  within  a  few 
feet  of  Mr.  Macready.  He  bowed  and 
smiled.  Another  chair  fell  at  his  feet, 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


511 


with  a  crash  which  resounded  all  over  the 
house.  Some  of  the  ladies  started  from 
their  seats,  and  grew  quite  pale.  The 
shouts,  and  groans,  and  hisses,  were 
redoubled.  Mr.  Macready  stood  quite 
unmoved — not  the  slightest  tremor  visible 
— not  the  least  bravado,  either,  in  his 
manner.  Another  chair  was  hurled  on  the 
stage,  and  the  curtain  suddenly  fell.  The 
ladies  hurried  from  the  boxes — all  but  a 
few,  who  betrayed  not  the  slightest  alarm. 
Still  the  uproar  continued,  and  there  was 
loud  talking  in  the  lobbies.  A  great 
crowd  outside  thundered  at  the  doors,  and 
threatened  to  break  into  the  theater.  Mr. 
Matsell  and  a  strong  party  of  his  policemen 
barricaded  the  entrances.  The  ladies  were 
hurried  out  by  one  of  the  doors  that  open 
in  Eighth  street,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
afterwards,  Mr.  Macready,  in  a  close  car 
riage,  was  driven  rapidly  and  safely  away. 
No  person  on  the  stage  was  injured  by  any 
of  the  missiles  thrown  during  the  evening, 
but  almost  all  of  the  actors  received  a  copi 
ous  allowance  of  the  fetid  liquid  which 
was  discharged  from  the  gallery.  Some 
of  the  ladies  expressed  their  feelings  in 
favor  of  Mr.  Macready  by  waving  their 


handkerchiefs ;  and  many  of  the  male 
audience  who  were  most  enthusiastic  in 
favor  of  Mr.  Macready,  were  Americans. 

During  the  pantomime  upon  the  stage, 
the  American  actors  playing  with  Macready 
were  frequently  warned  by  the  people  in 


the  gallery  to  "  go  off  the  stage/'  or  expect 
similar  treatment  hereafter.  In  conse 
quence  of  these  warnings,  after  the  play 
was  suspended,  Mr.  C.  W.  Clarke  appeared 
in  front  of  the  curtain,  as  an  apologist ; 
he  remarked  that  his  family  was  depend 
ent  on  his  exertions  for  a  maintenance, 
and  he  pleaded  this  fact  in  justification  of 
himself  for  having  consented  to  play  with 
Mr.  Macready.  Mr.  Clarke's  explanation 
was  cordially  received  ;  and  when  it  was 
found  that  the  performance  had  been 
effectually  interrupted,  and  that  Mr. 
Macready  had  abandoned  the  effort  to 
proceed  with  the  play,  the  vast  and  excited 
crowd,  within  and  without,  began  to  dis 
perse,  and,  about  twenty  minutes  past  ten 
o'clock,  the  whole  scene  was  perfectly 
quiet. 

But  the  end  was  not  yet.  Another  cur 
tain  was  to  rise,  and  a  tragedy — not  in 
pantomime,  but  in  dread  reality — was  to 
be  enacted  to  the  bloody  end.  Regretting 
the  abandonment  of  his  engagement  by 
Mr.  Macready,  and  especially  deprecating 
the  violence  which  led  to  that  determina 
tion  on  his  part,  a  large  number  of  the 
leading  gentlemen  of  New  York,  headed 
by  Washington  Irving,  addressed  a  note 
to  Mr.  Macready,  urging  the  fulfillment  of 
his  original  plan,  and  assuring  him  that  the 
good  sense  and  respect  for  order  character 
izing  the  community  would  sustain  him. 
This  request  was  acceded  to,  and  the 
evening  of  May  tenth  appointed  for  the 
performance.  Unfortunately,  the  publica 
tion  of  this  correspondence  was  regarded 
as  an  open  challenge  to  the  other  party  ; 
placards  were  circulated  that  the  crew  of 
the  Cunard  (English)  steamer  America 
were  resolved  to  sustain  their  countrymen 
with  arms  ;  and  the  calling  out  of  the  mil 
itary  by  the  mayor  on  Thursday  afternoon, 
as  a  measure  of  precaution  for  the  evening, 
added  fuel  to  the  flame.  It  became  evi 
dent  throughout  the  day  that  there  would 
be  a  serious  collision  between  the  rioters 
and  the  military,  in  the  event  of  the 
former  attempting  to  execute  their  threats 
against  Mr.  Macready. 

As  early  as  half-past  six  o'clock,  persons 


512 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


began  to  assemble  around  the  theater; 
and,  at  about  seven,  crowds  were  seen 
wending  their  way  to  the  theater  from  all 
parts  of  the  city.  By  half-past  seven, 
there  was  a  multitude  in  the  streets,  in 
front  of  the  opera-house,  and  the  rush  to 
get  admittance  was  tremendous.  Tickets 
for  a  sufficient  number  to  fill  the  house 
were  soon  sold,  and  the  announcement 
made  on  a  placard  that  no  more  would  be 
sold.  Meantime,  the  crowd  outside  was 
tremendous,  and  increasing  every  minute. 
Every  avenue  to  the  theater  soon  became 
densely  crowded.  Astor  Place  was  occu 
pied  by  an  immense  assemblage,  almost  all 
of  whom  had  apparently  been  attracted 
by  curiosity.  The  portion  of  the  Bowery 
adjoining  the  theater  was  also  crowded, 
and,  in  Broadway,  which  had  at  that  point 
been  opened  for  the  purpose  of  construct 
ing  a  sewer,  hundreds  of  persons  were  seen 
crowded  together  on  the  top  of  the  mound 
of  earth  thrown  up  from  the  center  of  the 
street. 

The  house  itself  was  filled  to  the  dome. 
A  great  portion  of  the  assemblage  in  the 
theater  consisted  of  policemen,  who  had 
been  distributed  all  over  the  house  in  de 
tached  parties.  There  was  not  any  appear 
ance  of  an  organized  party  of  rioters  in 
the  house.  When  the  curtain  rose,  there 
was  an  outburst  of  hisses,  groans,  cheers, 
and  miscellaneous  sounds.  The  opening 
scenes,  however,  were  got  through  with 
after  a  fashion,  several  persons  who  hissed 
and  hooted  having  been  seized  by  the 
police,  and  immediately  conveyed  to  an 
apartment  underneath  the  boxes,  where 
they  were  placed  in  confinement.  Mac- 
ready's  appearance  was  the  signal  for  a 
great  explosion  of  feeling.  Hisses,  groans, 
-shouts  of  derision,  assailed  him,  intermin 
gled  with  loud  cries  of  "  Out  with  him!" 
"  Out  with  him,  !  "  Large  numbers  of  the 
auditory  started  to  their  feet,  and  called 
on  the  police  to  eject  the  individuals  who 
had  expressed  their  disapprobation,  and 
several  arrests  were  made  in  the  manner 
already  described,  each  arrest  being  fol 
lowed  by  loud  cheers  and  applause  all  over 
the  house. 


Thus  the  play  proceeded  through  the 
first  two  acts.  There  had  been  a  great 
deal  of  trepidation  behind  the  scenes,  but 
the  heroism  with  which  the  actors  and 
actresses  sustained  themselves  on  the 
stage,  elicited  much  praise.  The  manner 
of  Mrs.  Pope,  the  Lady  Macbeth  of  this 
melancholy  night,  was  especially  com 
mended.  It  was,  indeed,  a  trying  scene. 
Mr.  Macready  repeatedly  expressed  to 
Mr.  Hackett,  his  wish  to  desist,  and  his 
desire  to  avoid  any  further  collision  with 
those  who  were  opposed  to  his  appearance  ; 
but,  amid  the  shouts,  groans,  hisses,  and 
arrests  by  the  police,  the  play  went  on, 
much  of  it  in  dumb  show,  but  portions  of 
it  without  material  interruption.  It  was 
supposed,  at  this  moment,  that  the  tumult 
would  be  effectually  quelled,  for  the  dis 
turbance  in  the  house  became  less  and 
less,  and  even  some  passages  of  Mr. 
Macready's  part  wore  heard  with  a  tolera 
ble  degree  of  order. 

The  first  persons  arrested  in  the  par- 
quette  were  four  young  men,  who  were 
locked  up  in  the  temporary  prison  under 
the  boxes.  In  this  apartment  was  a  gas 
light  burning,  and  the  prisoners,  pulling 
up  some  shavings  and  pieces  of  wood,  set 
fire  to  them.  When  the  policemen  opened 
the  door,  the  place  was  full  of  smoke,  but 
the  officers  speedily  extinguished  the  fire. 
The  prisoners  who  had  attempted  this 
atrocious  crime  were  immediately  put  in 
irons.  At  this  moment  a  shower  of  stones 
assailed  the  windows  of  the  theater;  and 
news  soon  came  in  from  the  street,  that  a 
man  named  Judson  was  heading  the  mob 
outside,  and  calling  upon  them  to  stone 
the  building.  The  chief-of-police  at  once 
ordered  his  arrest,  which  was  promptly 
effected.  In  the  meantime,  the  assault 
upon  the  doors  and  windows  was  continued, 
volley  after  volley  of  large  paving  stones 
being  discharged  against  them.  The 
glass  was,  of  course,  in  a  few  moments, 
broken  to  atoms  ;  but,  having  been  barri 
caded,  the  windows  resisted  the  attack  for 
some  minutes.  Yielding  at  last,  however, 
— the  fragments  of  glass,  and  blinds,  and 
barricades,  being  driven  with  violence  into 


GREAT  AND  MEMORABLE  EVENTS. 


513 


the  both'  of  the  house, — great  alarm  began 
to  pervade  the  audience.  Rumors  of  all 
kinds — that  the  house  was  to  be  fired, — 
that  it  was  to  be  blown  up, — and  so  on, 
were  circulated.  The  ladies,  seven  in 
number,  who  were  present,  and  who,  with 
a  heroism  creditable  to  their  sex,  had  till 
this  moment  preserved  their  equanimity, 
now  became  alarmed,  and  shifted  their 
seats  to  the  least  exposed  positions. 

And  now,  the  scene  being  enacted  was 
most  exciting.  In  front  and  rear,  the  fierce 
assaults  of  the  mob,  as  they  thundered  at 
the  doors,  resounded  all  over  the  theater, 
whilst  the  shouts  and  veils  of  the  assail- 


utes  afterwards,  two  troops  of  cavalry,  of 
the  first  division  of  the  state  militia,  and 
a  battalion  of  the  national  guards,  were 
seen  approaching  the  place  of  the  riot. 

A  troop  of  horse  now  turned  from 
Broadway  into  Astor  Place,  and  rode 
through  the  crowd  to  the  Bowery,  receiv 
ing  showers  of  stones  and  other  missiles, 
on  their  way.  The  horses  became  unman 
ageable,  and  the  troop  did  not  again  make 
its  appearance  on  the  ground.  In  a  few 
minutes  afterwards,  the  national  guard, 
one  of  the  independent  volunteer  compa 
nies  of  the  city,  made  their  appearance  on 
the  ground,  and  attempted  to  force  a  pas- 


*i  ^f-^g^-  ?stijm^S&3 
j^$^iM^^K& 


ASTOR  PLACE   Ol'ilKA-HOC'SE   RIOTS. 


ants  were  terrific.  Inside,  however,  all 
was  comparatively  quiet.  The  police 
arrested  summarily  the  leading  rioters  in 
the  house,  and,  making  sorties  among  the 
crowd  outside,  secured  many  of  the  ring 
leaders  of  the  mob. 

As  the  mob  increased  in  magnitude 
and  in  the  ferocity  with  which  they  assailed 
the  building,  the  cry  arose,  "  Where  are 
the  military?"  "  Can  nothing  be  done  to 
disperse  the  rioters  ? "  "  Where's  the 
mayor?"  Several  dispatches  were  sent 
to  the  City  hall,  where  the  military  were 
stationed.  At  length,  about  nine  o'clock, 
the  sound  of  a  troop  of  cavalry  coming  up 
Broadway  was  heard  ;  and  in  a  few  min- 
33 


sage  through  the  crowd  to  the  theater. 
The  mob  hissed  and  hooted  at  them,  and 
finally  attacked  them  with  stones,  which 
were  at  hand  in  consequence  of  the  build 
ing  of  the  sewer  in  the  vicinity.  The  com 
pany  were  at  this  period  thrown  into  dis 
order  by  the  attack  made  upon  them,  and 
retired  to  Broadway,  where  they  rallied, 
and  made  another  attempt  to  reach  the 
theater.  They  were  hissed  and  pelted  as 
before,  with  stones,  but  the}'  succeeded  in 
gaining  the  desired  point.  They  then 
endeavored  to  form  in  line  on  the  sidewalk, 
and  while  doing  so,  five  or  six  of  them, 
including  the  captain  of  the  compatiy,  were 
felled  to  the  ground  by  paving  stones,  and 


514 


OUR  FIRST  CENTURY.— 1776-1876. 


taken  insensible  into  the  theater.  The 
next  officer  in  command  then  said  to  the 
sheriff,  who  was  on  the  ground,  that  if 
orders  did  not  come  to  fire,  he  and  his 
men  would  abandon  the  streets.  Accord 
ingly,  the  officer  directed  the  company  to 
fire  around  over  the  heads  of  the  people, 
which  was  done,  but  without  effect.  The 
multitude  continued  to  pelt  them  with 
paving  stones,  as  before.  An  order  was 
then  given  to  the  company  to  fire  at  the 
crowd,  and  it  was  done,  two  men  falling, 
one  shot  in  the  arm,  and  the  other  through 
the  right  cheek.  The  first  was  sent  to  the 
hospital,  but  the  other  was  found  to  be 
dead.  After  the  volley,  the  mob  re 
treated  a  short  distance,  but  rallied  and 
renewed  the  attack  with  greater  vigor  than 
before.  Paving  stones  and  other  missiles 
were  discharged  at  them  in  great  quanti 
ties;  and  while  the  mob  was  going  on, 
another  volley  was  fired  by  the  military, 
killing  and  wounding  several  more. 

After  this  volley,  the  crowd  retreated 
again,  and  the  military  and  the  police  took 
advantage  of  it  to  form  a  line  across  the 
street  at  both  ends  of  Astor  Place,  so  as  to 
prevent  any  connection  between  Broadway 
and  the  Bowery.  General  Sandford  then 
issued  an  order  for  more  troops  and  two 
brass  pieces  loaded  with  grape  to  be 
brought  to  the  scene  immediately,  as  it 
was  rumored  that  the  crowd  intended  to 
arm  themselves  and  renew  the  attack. 
Before  the  volleys  were  discharged,  Gen 
eral  Sandford  several  times  called  out  to 
the  crowd,  that  they  must  hold  back,  or 
the  troops  would  fire  ;  and,  on  the  sheriff 
at  last  giving  the  order,  General  Hall 
exclaimed,  "  Fire  over  their  heads."  The 
order  to  fire  was  repeated  by  General 
Sandford  and  Colonel  Duryea,  and  the 
men  fired  over  the  heads  of  the  mob, 
against  the  walls  of  a  house.  A  shout  was 
then  made  by  the  mob,  "  They  have  only 
Hank  cartridges — give  it  to  them  again!" 
and  another  volley  of  stones  followed 
instantly.  The  troops  were  then  ordered 


by  General  Sandford  and  Colonel  Duryea, 
to  fire  again,  General  Hall  saying,  "Fire 
low"  and  then,  for  the  first  time,  the  mob 
began  to  give  way.  The  troops  thereupon 
moved  forward  and  crossed  the  street, 
driving  the  crowd  before  them,  until  the 
troops  got  near  to  the  corner  of  Lafayette 
Place.  The  mob  rallied  at  the  corner  of 
Lafayette  Place  on  one  side,  and  at  the 
corner  of  the  theater  and  broken  ground 
at  the  opposite  side,  and  advanced  again 
with  fresh  showers  of  stones  on  the  troops. 
Several  of  the  military  were  hurt  severely 
by  this  second  attack,  and  orders  were 
given  to  the  troops  to  fire,  one-half 
obliquely  to  the  right,  and  one-half  ob 
liquely  to  the  left,  on  those  two  bodies. 
This  was  done,  and  the  crowd  fell  back  to 
Lafayette  Place,  and  beyond  the  broken 
ground  behind  the  theater.  There  was  no 
firing  after  this  by  the  troops,  but  the 
mob  kept  up  constant  attacks. 

The  number  of  lives  lost  in  this  terrible 
occurrence  was  twenty-two,  and  a  large 
number  were  wounded.  The  whole  number 
of  military  engaged  in  the  conflict  was 
about  two  hundred  and  ten,  one-half  in  the 
line  of  Broadway,  and  the  other  in  the 
line  towards  the  Bowery.  The  mob  was 
estimated  by  some  as  high  as  twenty  thou 
sand  ;  but,  on  account  of  the  street  lights 
having  been  put  out,  it  was  exceedingly 
dark,  and  nothing  could  be  seen  but  a 
dense  mass  of  people,  swaying  and  surg 
ing  like  a  troubled  sea,  while  hoarse 
shouts  and  wild  cheers  and  curses  rent 
the  air. 

The  element  of  personal  animosity 
between  these  two  distinguished  histrionic 
characters,  had,  beyond  all  question,  ob 
tained  deep  root,  and,  in  addition  to  this, 
appeal  was  made  by  their  friends,  respec 
tively,  to  the  prejudices  of  nationality,  and 
thus  the  reception  accorded  Mr.  Macready 
differed  widely  from  that  which  greeted 
him  on  his  previous  visit  to  America.  Mr. 
Macready,  soon  after  this  tragedy,  left  for 
England. 


LOAN  DEPT 


-50wi-2,'64 


General  Library     . 
Ufu?e«fty  of  California 

Berkeley 


